


We used to be Friends

by Flofliflou



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (not entirely sure what qualifies as mild language so I just hopes that'll fit), Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Veronica Mars Fusion, Angst, BAMF Yuuri, Based on an episode of Veronica Mars, Best friends falling out, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Confused Viktor, Confused Yuuri, Dog Disappearances, Feelings Realization, Final Year of High-School, Happy Ending, Hasetsu, Hasetsu is in California, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of Mafia violence (not graphic), Mild Language, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Katsuki Yuuri, Private Investigation, Smartass Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov and Yuri Plisetsky Are Siblings, mafia, mending friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:06:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 207,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flofliflou/pseuds/Flofliflou
Summary: They haven't been anything but strangers since seventh grade. And it's definitely not his fault, Yuuri doesn't even know what actually happened.One day they're the best friends in the world, and the next Viktor couldn't look at him.One day they're the best friends in the world, and the next, Viktor's gone for a week, rumors flying.One day they're the best friends in the world, and the next, Viktor shoves him to the floor with angry hurt on his face.So why in the hell is Viktor coming tohimfor help?*High-School AU where Yuuri helps his PI dad, he and Viktor haven't spoken in years and Makkachin disappears so he asks for Yuuri's help to find her. It goes about as well as could be expected.*The disappearance-storyline is inspired by s01e19 of Veronica Mars, but it's grown into much more than that. If you like Veronica Mars you should definitely recognize it and enjoy the references, if not it shouldn't bother you too much because it still became its own thing.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 348
Kudos: 232





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for a while (that's an understatement). It was supposed to be less than 10 chapters. Didn't go as planned.
> 
> This all started when my roommate kept pestering me about watching Veronica Mars and I finally caved. Loved the opening song "We used to be Friends" and loved the characters, and I couldn't help but imagining using the show's universe to have Yuuri and Viktor run around in. So this happened. 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy and don't hesitate to comment and leave kudos! :) 
> 
> P.s: everything is all written already and mostly edited, so it won't be abandoned and should be posted regularly! :)

“Happy Birthday Viktor!”

They all yelled and laughed at the same time, clapping happily. The little boy beamed, eying the cake placed in front of him with wide and shining eyes, surely thinking about how he was going to devour the whole thing.

He wiggled on his seat, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and was completely unable to contain his excitement at being showered with attention.

A tall woman standing behind him laughed upon noticing the look displayed on his face.

“Alright, let’s cut this cake! Who wants a slice?”

All the children screamed loud yeses, launching their arms in the air, and some even half falling off their chairs. The creamy chocolate cake was taken away from Viktor to allow his mother to cut it more easily, and the boy barely noticed since his surrounding classmates and friends had already reclaimed his attention.

“When are you gonna open your presents?” a little boy with curly blond hair and dark green eyes asked, leaning toward Viktor and half bent on the table.

Viktor’s features morphed into an exaggerated serious expression, eyes shut and eyebrows shot up. 

“Oh I think we should eat the cake properly first, the presents should only be opened afterwards, this is a serious matter, Christophe you know,” he declared, his tone edging on lofty.

The boy stayed mute for a second, but then Viktor opened one eye, looking at him as a mischievous grin started creeping in on his face, and Christophe immediately relaxed bursting into laughter in the process.

The quieter dark-haired boy sitting to Viktor’s right smiled at the antics, and playfully nudged his neighbor with his arm, successfully shattering his composure and the silver-head joined in the laughter.

“But I do agree that eating cake comes first!” a loud voice boomed from the other side of the table, where a dark-haired and imposing boy was sitting on his knees propped up on the chair, and both his hands supporting his weight on the table.

“One point to Takeshi, I want to eat the cake too!” a red-head chimed in, one arm wrapped around herself on her chest, and the other pointing toward the boy sitting next to her.

Viktor rolled his eyes. “I was joking you dummies!”

The word had barely left his mouth that he received a little tap on his head, making him wince more in surprise than real pain, and looked up at his unimpressed mother. She was looking down at him, her lips thinned, a raised eyebrow that was clearly daring her son to retort.

“Language,” she finally said as she was satisfied with Viktor looking at least a little sorry.

She replaced the plate with the now cut cake in the center of the table, and looking at how dirty the looney tunes themed tablecloth was, she refrained from exhaling in relief at having put it on. She didn’t dare think in what state she would have found the glass table underneath if it wasn’t for the paper tablecloth protecting it now.

“Give me your plate kids,” she said and flinched when a dozen of paper plate surged up in front of her. “Right, let me try this again: one at a time please. Yuuri, sweetheart give me your plate,” she added, turning to the only child who hadn’t thrown his plate up.

He didn’t hide his eagerness however, and his face lit up when she handed him back the plate heavy with a generous portion. Next to him Viktor had narrowed his eyes, a pouting smirk on his face as he looked intently at Yuuri’s serving.

The boy returned the grin, and pulled his tongue out in Viktor’s direction, and they both laughed.

Soon enough, all of the kids had been served, and some had even finished their first slice, and already demanded another one.

Viktor was getting impatient though. Now that they had eaten the cake, his mind had embarked in a one-track though process. He was focused on one thing, and one thing only.

He set down his plastic fork in his now empty plate, a little louder than necessary, and shot up. 

“Ok! Presents now!” he exclaimed, and the children all instinctively imitated him, screaming their approbation and rushing to get their own package wrapped in colorful glossy paper.

“Mine first Viktor!”  
“Hey no, I was there first!”  
“No you weren’t you liar!”

The little boy basked under the spotlight, and even if it hadn’t been his intention, he was doing a poor job at hiding it. He was beaming, and grinning so widely it almost seemed like his face would split in two. His friends were all around him, pushing their gifts towards him, forcing him to take hold of one or another, and fighting over who would be the first to give it to him.

His silver ponytail was swinging all around his head as he turned to look one side or the other, chuckling.

Leaning on the partition wall between the bright kitchen and the immense living room with her arms folded over her stomach, Viktor’s mother was observing the bouncy kids with a fond critical look. With all the playing and running around during an entire afternoon, she was amazed that they still had this much energy. At least they would sleep well tonight, and with a little luck, they’ll fall fast.  
Her thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing, and she peeled herself off the wall. She passed by the children still completely enwrapped in the “opening-gift” session, and went to open the door.

Behind it, was standing a smaller and chubbier woman with chestnut brown hair up in a messy bun and chocolate eyes sparkling behind thick framed glasses.

“Hi Elena!” she exclaimed with a bright smile. “Happy to see the house is still standing! I thought I would just relieve you of the burden of caring for a dozen of little monsters disguised as angels alone” she added with a cheeky tone.

Elena laughed, hugging the newcomer and stepped aside to allow her to come in.

“I must say, they’ve drained my energy! Good thing they’re all focused on gift time right now, gives me a breather,” she said with an easy smile.

Hiroko chuckled and followed Elena toward the kitchen. When they emerged in the living room, a few of the kids lifted their heads up to the two women, including Yuuri whose face immediately fell.

“Mom! What are you doing here this early?” he exclaimed in shock, his tone bordering distress.

His mother made an amused face at that, both because her son looked as if she was going to drag him to the last circle of hell, and because 6pm after spending five hours at the Nikiforov’s wasn’t exactly her definition of early in absolute terms.

“Nothing Yuu-chan, you have fun,” she waved his alarmed expression off. The little boy followed his mother with a skeptical gaze and his lips glued together in a grimace. He really didn’t want to leave now, Viktor hadn’t even opened his present yet.

Speaking of which, the silver-head had watched intently the exchange, and wasn’t exactly thrilled at the perspective of having Yuuri leave either. He threw a side-eye glance toward the boy next to him, whose hands were clenched around an awkwardly shaped red envelope adorned with a huge golden flower ribbon.

He felt curiosity bubble in the pit of his stomach at seeing Yuuri’s hands wrinkling the envelope further, and his eyes darted between the gift and Yuuri’s face.

He straightened his back a little, and took in a deep breath, knowing he’d have to speak a little loud to be heard.  
“Ok! I want to open Yuuri’s present now!” he said almost petulantly.

Maybe that wasn’t the best move. Finishing with Yuuri’s present last would have made more sense to ensure Yuuri stayed as long as possible, but he couldn’t help the simmering excitement he was feeling, nor the fact that he wanted to settle Yuuri’s deflated face.

The boy’s head snapped back at his friend with a start, and blinked a couple of times, as if he couldn’t register the words. He stared at Viktor for a few moments, completely still while Viktor’s hand had extended out in his direction, and his face harbored an expectant smile.  
Suddenly he seemed to realize what exactly was expected of him, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“Oh,” he said quietly, clenching the envelope tighter. Viktor cocked his head to the side, unmoving his hand, and locked his eyes with Yuuri who seemed tortured between the same contradictory thoughts as Viktor: excitement and pride at seeing Viktor open his gift, and not wanting to provide his mother with a reason to leave early.

Short seconds after however, he took in a sharp breath and gulped resolutely. “Yes, sure. Here,” he said gently placing the envelope in Viktor’s hands and smiled at him. “Happy Birthday Viktor.”

The silver-head was glowing now, and his smile only grew wider – if that was possible – nodding happily before he turned the envelope around in his hands feeling something inside, and proceeded to open it.

Yuuri’s gaze was playing yo-yo between Viktor’s face and the envelope, fidgeting his nerves away by tugging on his shirt. He was very excited to see what Viktor would think about that. His gift didn’t look as big, or as dashing as many of the other packages surrounding the boy, but he couldn’t shush the voice that was whispering that his gift would be the best of all.  
Because how could it not? They had been talking about it for _forever_ !

Viktor had opened the envelope by now, slightly ripping off bits and pieces along the way, and he didn’t resist the urge of shaking it a little to try and make out what exactly had been giving the envelope the weird shape.  
He must have shaken it a little too fast though, because something went flying out of it, surprising all the curious children in the room, some even screaming and giggling at the stunt.

Viktor looked utterly surprised, and his features morphed into an expression of bantering apology.

“Oops,” he said, wincing, and turned to Yuuri who was containing his laughter. Feeling reassured by the lack of anger on Yuuri’s face, a shyer smile tugged on his lips. When it looked like Yuuko had jumped at the opportunity of getting whatever had flown out, he riveted his gaze back to the envelope, and took a small rectangular card out of it.

Viktor froze. His mouth gaped open, and his eyes widened.

Yuuri couldn’t suppress the proud grin that made his lips upon seeing the reaction, and noticing Yuuko coming back, he extended his hands toward her in invitation for her to give back what she was holding.

The look on her face obviously indicated that she had figured out what the gift was and she gave Yuuri back his gift, with a grin of her own on her face.

In the meantime, Viktor seemed to have regained his ability to move, because now he was blinking madly, opening and closing his mouth every two seconds. 

Yuuri chuckled, bringing the silver-head back on earth, and he looked back to Yuuri’s face with nothing but utter shock pasted on.

“You…that’s…how…” he stuttered. The words really didn’t make sense, but Yuuri understood nonetheless and he didn’t even think about repressing his very satisfied but gentle smile anymore.

“Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’ and agitating his hand holding the precious object that had escaped earlier.  
Viktor’s eyes flickered in the direction, and upon realizing what it was Yuuri was showing him, he gawked once more.

He swallowed heavily, and let go of a sharp breath. His brain wasn’t cooperating, and he had no idea what to say. He couldn’t believe it. Did Yuuri really get him what he was starting to comprehend he had gotten him? Objectively it shouldn’t have been too complicated to figure out, but Viktor was awestruck by what the little card was showing him, and by what Yuuri was holding.

“Yuuri, how did you…?” he finally settled on, looking back to Yuuri’s face. His friend was beaming at him, and there was no doubt anymore. He yelped in excitement, dropping the card and tackled Yuuri with a crashing hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” he screamed, his earlier frozen stance completely evaporating in favor of an erupting energy. Yuuri let out a plaintive yelp.

“Ah! Viktor you’re crushing me!” he complained, although with a smile.

Viktor let go, but kept his hands on Yuuri’s shoulder his eyes riveted on the boy’s face. “Thank you so much! This is amazing Yuuri!”

Yuuri felt his face heating up, but didn’t look away. He pushed Viktor back gently, allowing both of them to sit back properly. He took his hand and put the object, a golden round pendant attached to a red collar, in is palm.

“Her name is Makkachin, and you can get her at the kennel whenever you want.”

Viktor looked like he was going to explode with excitement, and he crushed Yuuri into another hug, to which Yuuri didn’t protest this time, simply wrapping his arms around his friend’s back.

“You’re amazing Yuuri, thank you so much! You’re the best friend ever!” Yuuri’s cheeks flushed again, all the way to the point of his ears, and he was very glad Viktor couldn’t see it this time. He smiled anyway, happy that his gift had had the hoped reaction, and feeling all tingly and bubbly at the praise.

“Always,” he whispered and felt Viktor hold tighter.

***

Yuuri opened his eyes with a start, heart hammering in his chest. The deafening beeping of his alarm clock echoing in the small room was definitely _not_ his favorite way to wake up. Yet the only effective one.

His hand groped to his bedside table, looking for the source of the obnoxious ripping sound and as soon as he found it, it was all he could do to not indulge in the urge to slam the damn thing down to the floor.

He let himself fall back on the plush pillows, all his limbs heavy with sleep, and his hand went cupping his forehead. The dream had given him a headache and he seriously felt like someone had been knocking his head with a frying pan.

_What in the hell was that?_

He hadn’t been thinking about that birthday party in such a long time, he really didn’t understand why in the world it would resurface now. Yuuri exhaled all the air out of his lungs in annoyance. Of all the things he could have wished to dream about, this was definitely not on the list.

He sat up in his bed, the comforter slipping off his chest to rest on his laps, and reached out for his glasses next to him. He took in the sight of his indescribably messy room with a flat look, lingering on the duffle bag he had abandoned the night before, after his mother and he had come back late from the other side of the country where he just had an interview to get into University. Seriously considering going back to sleep, his attention was pulled away to a moving figure skipping inside the room that immediately cheered him up. 

“Oh hello Vicchan!” 

He hopped off the bed in an instant, and squatted next to the poodle that was excitedly waving its tail, panting with his tongue out. Yuuri’s face relaxed in a smile when the dog leaned into the touch as he scratched behind its ears. 

“Good boy! Who’s the best? Who’s the best?” he cooed, before getting back up. 

Yuuri stretched a little, trying to pry the sleepiness away and cursing the school counselor without much conviction. But at least, seeing his dog as soon as he’d woken up was exactly the cure he needed to both the dream and to start the surely spectacularly tedious day in something other than an atrocious mood. 

The only reason why he had to wake up this early was because the school counselor had requested to see him before class. Many students would probably have felt anxious to be summoned like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last.

“Hello Yuu-chan,” his mother welcomed him when he emerged in the kitchen after getting dressed.

“Hi Mom,” he answered with a smile as he watched her set a pan full of scrambled eggs on the table. 

Yuuri hummed appreciatively when the smell wafted around in the open plan room, and went over the table to climb up on a stool.

“Oh hi Dad,” he added as he noticed a figure emerging from the hallway. But as his gaze fell on his father’s form he half-froze in his attempt to sit. He looked at from head to toe, gaze suddenly alight with mirth as he tried to keep a straight face. 

His father looked like a mess. Like, not having slept nor showered for three days mess. But it was surprisingly comical. His dad always did look perfectly put together, and now he was drooping on himself, his hair spiking in all directions, his glasses were askew and he was wearing a sleep robe that must have been at least a century old. 

Yuuri was already proud of himself to have managed to hold it as long as he did, but when his dad yawned with all his might, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Did you pull an all-nighter?”

His smirking tone made his dad wince, and he threw a glare at his son.

“Can you please respect your old dad and not make fun of him the first chance you got?”

Yuuri shook his head vigorously. “Never, it’s far too tempting! Besides, I’m sure you missed it in the three days we were gone!” he cheekily replied, sharing a look with his smiling mom. 

The man huffed in a silent protest and sat next to him. Yuuri eyed his father, who was now supporting his head in his hand like it was the heaviest thing on earth, and picking at his food absentmindedly. He shared another amused glance with his mother, still smiling fondly at her husband’s appearance as she picked up the remove of the TV to increase the volume. 

Yuuri briefly wondered why she bothered at all, it was nothing new: minor gang rivalries and vendettas on the one hand, frivolous billionaires’ scandals and businessmen’s greed. He kept on enjoying his breakfast without really paying attention, when he realized that his father had stopped picking at his food, and in fact had his eyes riveted to the small screen they had in their kitchen. 

Yuuri turned his attention to what was playing out on the screen more out of habit than real curiosity, but frowned in confusion at the sight. The commentator was announcing the arrival of one of the richest businessmen in town, Andrei Dvornikov, while images of a seemingly very smart man leaving the airport were displayed. 

“I didn’t know he had any plans of coming back,” his mother said, she too, watching the TV. 

“Is that a big deal? Why would he announce his business travels?” Yuuri asked mildly surprised over the importance given to the news and his mother’s comment. She usually never paid much attention to the program either. 

“Well, it’s simply surprising since he hadn’t been back in town for the last five years or so,” she explained before sipping her tea. 

“Oh,” he eloquently said. 

He knew Dvornikov was the father of one of his classmate and due to her constant rambling that the man was incredibly busy, but that was about it. He really hadn’t realized Anya’s father had been absent that long. Well to be fair, he didn’t exactly like Anya, so any chance he had to avoid her and her rambling about how amazing her father was, he took. 

Without really thinking much more of it, he brought his fork to his mouth when a detail caught his attention. His father’s hand was clenched around his own fork, and he suddenly seemed vaguely more alert. As soon as the commentator moved on to the next uninteresting topic of the day, he went back to his eggs, dropping again, as if he suddenly remembered how tired he was. 

Yuuri narrowed his eyes in suspicion, glance going between the TV and his father. 

He had no idea why that particular piece of information had intrigued his dad, but regardless, it was strange.  
And now that Yuuri thought about it, his current appearance was more than a giveaway that something was bothering him. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that his dad hated missing out on sleep just as much as Yuuri did. And by the looks of him, it was more than obvious he hadn’t slept much, if at all. 

With that in mind, Yuuri would be damned if he didn’t try and find out why. He felt curiosity lacing up his spine as he remembered something and he voiced his suspicion without preamble. 

“Were you working on the Sulliman case?”

Working on a case was the one single thing that could prompt his dad into not sleeping, and looking like… Yuuri grimaced at the thought. Well let’s just say like _that_ , his mind supplied. 

This particular one was a tough nut to crack ever since it landed on his father’s desk, and Yuuri wouldn’t have been surprised if that was what kept his dad up all night.

His father’s face instantly fell in tired exasperation and he stared at Yuuri with a flat look. “Yuuri, please…” he sighed.

He would lie if he pretended not having expected that exact reaction since it was the exact same he received ever since Yuuri had started helping his dad out and found every occasion imaginable to put his nose where his father considered it didn’t belong. 

“Come on, dad! It’s a huge case! You’ve been working on it since like last year. I wanna know how it’s going that’s all!” he pleaded, leaning slightly over the table.

Despite knowing next to nothing about it, he had heard enough bits and bouts of conversation or passing comments over the year to realize how complicated and extensive it must be. 

“It’s none of your business- ”

Yuuri almost choked on his eggs and didn’t lose time interrupting. 

“Really dad?” He leveled an appalled gaze at his father, who seemed a little taken aback by the outburst. He recovered quickly however.

“Yuuri, you’re a high-schooler-”

“A high-schooler whose part-time job is helping his private investigator dad in solving cases!” Yuuri countered, before adding more softly: “Please not that excuse again! It may have worked when I was a freshman, but not anymore.”

As true as that statement was, Yuuri was aware he was pushing it. This case had been among the off-limits pile for him ever since his father had started working on it. He rarely crossed his father over that particular rule, accepting it as a package deal for him being able to work with his dad on his PI business, but he had to admit that this case was more than a little intriguing. Especially because his father had been even more protective around it than with any other case he’d worked on before. If Yuuri was perceptive enough to pick up on even the tiniest details in investigations his father even missed out on sometimes, he could figure that one out.

He resolutely kept his eyes straight to his father’s face, waiting for an answer that didn’t seem to come. Yuuri set his fork down, and deflated a little in frustration. 

“Dad?” 

His father straightened back up a little, and he lifted his head up to meet his son’s gaze. Yuuri couldn’t help the subtle frown that crossed his face, at the intensity of the determination he read in his father’s eyes. 

“Alright then.” 

Yuuri’s eyebrow shot up, obviously not having expected that. He was more waiting for something along the lines of “I don’t want you to work with me anymore” and even if the actual answer was infinitely better than his own bleak prediction, the reason as to why that came to be, completely escaped him. 

“Alright, as in you’ll tell me all I want to know?” he said, his voice twitching between hope and wary caution. 

His father exhaled slowly, and Yuuri noted how he had refrained from outright rolling his eyes. 

“Alright, as in, I’ll tell you more about the case after school, when you come by the office,” he started and Yuuri couldn’t refrain the triumphant smirk that creeped up on his face, making his father pause instantly. 

He tilted his head down, while still his eyes still riveted on his son’s in warning. “But Yuuri, that’s it. I don’t want you mixed up with this investigation more than you need to, am I clear?” 

“Crystal,” the teenager quickly replied, raising his hands in the air in surrender, trying his best not to show how his curiosity had skyrocketed at his father’s words. 

The older man seemed to have picked up on it anyway, and he let out an exhausted breath. 

Yuuri bit his lips, more than aware of and only a little sorry at how his stubbornness was taking its toll on his father’s patience. He seemed to relax a little quicker however, as soon as he started eating, and Yuuri took it as its assurance that he wouldn’t backtrack on his promise. 

He’d wait for the full story before making assumptions as to why his father didn’t want him near that case. Agreed, his father agreeing to tell him more was just his attempt to get Yuuri off his back for the time being, but he’ll take it. Considering the obvious sleep deprivation, the teenager really couldn’t blame him. 

He focused back on his eggs, humming in pleasure at how fondant they tasted. He almost jolted in surprise when his father spoke again. 

“By the way, why are you awake this early?” 

He took a minute to swallow properly. “Oh, I have to get to school early, the counselor wants to see me,” he explained evasively. 

His father’s eyebrows knitted together not so much in surprise but more out of curiosity, in a rather comical expression, but his words distracted Yuuri again. “About what?” 

Yuuri shrugged, making a face. “Hum, my schedule and my attitude. Not necessarily in that order. Her words,” he added upon seeing the gaze he was graced with. 

Next to him, his mother chuckled. “What did you do this time?” 

“Nothing, really. The usual.” he said flatly. 

“Yes, ok I don’t wanna know,” his father’s intervened flatly, focusing back on his eggs. 

Yuuri smiled, their previous disagreement all forgotten. Waking up earlier was still not his favorite thing, but maybe there were advantages to it too. It was nice to spend time with both his parents like that, considering how rare it seemed to happen these days. Even if they normally made a point of sharing at least one meal per day as a family, the last few weeks had been hectic, and they had not been able to do so nearly as much as they wished. 

His mother was working with her parents in their Inn every day, and even harder now since they were aging and that his sister wasn’t there to help occasionally anymore. Even if the energy his grandmother still possessed was about the most amazing and terrifying thing Yuuri had ever seen, it often wasn’t enough. Since Mari had left for University, they had been a little short on staff, being able to afford only part-time helper to replace her and that meant a heavier workload on everyone else. 

His dad on the other hand, had his own Private investigation practice and Yuuri had been nothing short of ecstatic when his father had finally relented and let him sign a contract as a part time job during sophomore year. 

Yuuri knew for a fact that one of the reasons that this came to be, was his apparently insufferable tendency to butt in into his father’s cases ever since the end of freshman year. It seemed that signing a contract meant it would be easier to at least keep an eye on what information Yuuri had access to. To this day, Yuuri still doubted that was the main motivation, but he hadn’t contested it, too happy to have obtained what he wanted to risk it. 

“Ok, gotta run,” he said as soon as he’d swallowed the last scraps of eggs off his plate, and jumped down the stool. 

He kissed his mother on the cheek, and touched his dad’s shoulder before grabbing his bag. 

“I’ll see you tonight!” 

He waved goodbye, and left hastily. Even if he had no desire to go see the counselor whatsoever, he really didn’t want to end up with a free ticket for another appointment because she would obviously think he would need extra attention. 

He parked his old [ LeBaron](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c1/8e/e1/c18ee1afd36e644fa3f2b08f79429e58.jpg) in the first empty spot he found, which objectively wasn’t hard considering the only students already present at school were those crazy enough to think that being part of the swimming team was worth waking up at 5am every morning. 

The appointment went by quickly enough, and before long Yuuri found himself breathing in relief at being released away from the prying eyes of the counselor. The way her face scrunched up in concentration whenever she scrutinized his expression as if she hoped to be able to read whatever the causes of his obvious existential malaise was, almost too frightening to even be considered funny. 

By then, the hallways had filled up with hollering students and as much as he usually hated it, this time he couldn’t help but relax at the familiarity of the scene. Or at least, not cringe too overtly at it. He proceeded into putting his earphones back on, when he heard a loud squealing behind him. 

“Yuuri!” 

He couldn’t even turn back to see where it had come from before he had the weight of someone half jumping on his back, and was tackled by one arm wrapping around his neck, while the other one went cupping his shoulder. 

Turning his head, he noticed the smiling face of Phichit, unsurprisingly as bright as sunshine even this early in the morning. 

“How are you so enthusiastic this early Phich?” he chuckled as his friend released his grip around his shoulders. 

“Come on, it’s high school! What is there not to be enthusiastic about?” 

Despite the clearly mocking tone, Yuuri snorted absolutely not impressed, to Phichit’s great amusement. 

“I’m an early riser, why are you so surprised?” and to that Yuuri hummed noncommittally. “How was Philly?” 

Yuuri smiled. “Nice actually. It was super tiring, between the flights, the tour and the interview, but the city’s great and the campus looks great too. I would still go, regardless what the city looks like though, since it’s still one of the best program in criminal justice of the country,” he added with a knowing look to Phichit, who smiled in return. “I just wished I could have slept a little more this morning.” 

“Yeah actually, why are _you_ already here?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

Yuuri twisted around to face him better. “I didn’t tell you? I thought I did.” Phichit threw him a quizzical glance, prompting him to continue. “I got ‘summoned’ by our delightful counselor,” he said with an exaggerated solemn tone 

“Oh boy,” Phichit rolled his eyes. “What about this time?” 

Yuuri deflated. “Seriously? You had the same reaction as my mom! Careful Phich you’re turning into a forty-year old mother!” 

He received Phichit’s elbow in his ribs, erasing the smirk off his face and he grunted the air out of his lungs. 

“Let me guess, you slept again in class?” Phichit mused, his tone laced with playful mockery. 

“Could have,” Yuuri said very seriously thinking back on all the times he had indeed fell asleep, “but no, not this time. I apparently kept being a smart-ass in class, and I think I drained Mister Philip’s patience." 

Phichit huffed, his face clearly screaming that it wasn’t a too complicated deed to accomplish. Mister Philip wasn’t known for being the most patient human being that ever walked this earth, and Yuuri knew what buttons to push. It didn’t hurt either that he enjoyed doing so. 

The first bell shrilled through the hallway, indicating the beginning of the daily torture. 

“Woop, gotta go!” Phichit exclaimed, releasing his friend. “I’ll see you second period!” was all he said before he was running to his first class without so much of a look back. 

Yuuri chortled, shaking his head and started his music to go down to his study room. He had barely taken three steps that a small group of boys turned in the hallway, walking in the opposite direction. 

“Oh perfect,” he muttered under his breath, while a new [ song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4iUibbj-7w) started playing. 

As he heard the first verse starting, he almost wanted to laugh dryly at the irony. ‘Fitting’ is the word that came to his mind as the three figures approached, and his gaze unwillingly flickered to the taller of the three. 

His jaw clenched and he found very hard to resist the urge of rolling his eyes at the obnoxiously annoying smirk displayed on the lips of the dark-haired boy next to him as he shoved his elbow to his sides and nudged in Yuuri’s direction. 

Yuuri quirked an eyebrow at the obvious lack of discretion, but he was used to it and not exactly affected by it all anymore. 

“Oi Katsuki, hadn’t even realized you were gone,” he shouted with a sardonic look on his face. 

“And I see you’re still as amazing with punchlines,” Yuuri retorted with an acid smiling face. Chris rolled his eyes and shifted his upper body in JJ’s direction while keeping on the walking. 

“Really dude?” he berated with a huff of exasperation before turning back to Yuuri, loosening in a genuine smile. “Hi Yuuri, nice to have you back.” 

Yuuri let out a breathy sigh and smiled back, nodding briefly. Good thing one piece on the brochette wasn’t rotten. 

In the middle, Viktor looked like he wasn’t sure which side he should be taking and settled on piecing Yuuri out from head to toe but oddly enough, without the usual closed off, glaring or smirking expression. 

Every single time they would cross paths, Yuuri would notice how exaggerated the smirk was and how Viktor’s blue eyes would shine with a puzzling lackluster spark as if all the mirth that used to be there had been smothered out. 

And like every single time, Yuuri wouldn’t even think about bringing it up. Beyond the sarcastic comments occasionally exchanged, they hadn’t shared a conversation longer than three words since seventh grade. He wasn’t about to start now. 

Instead, he shrugged and turned towards Chris. “Well, I’ll see you later then.” Chris returned an apologetic smile, very aware of how strained Yuuri and Viktor’s relationship was, and having absolutely no clue as to why that was. 

Not that Yuuri knew better. One day they were the best friends in the world, and the next Viktor couldn’t even look at him. One day they were friends, and then the next Viktor disappeared. 

Or more accurately, he had been absent for a week due to ‘personal reasons’ that no one saw fit to elaborate on. Most had accepted it for what it was: Viktor was probably sick or something, no big deal. But to Yuuri, it had felt like being stabbed with anguish at being completely clueless as to what was happening. Viktor hadn’t provided him with any type of answer or reassurance. In fact it seemed like he hadn’t bothered saying anything at all, and simply deemed that cutting all forms of communication was perfectly acceptable, and not like feeling a knife being twisted into a fresh wound relentlessly. Nerves had been eating him away and there had been nothing he could do to fix any of it, since the silence he’d received from anyone he had asked what exactly was going on was the only thing he could go on with. 

Then Viktor had come back, and rumors of his mother leaving town had sparked through the school faster than wildfire. That was the explanation to Viktor’s absence, and everyone took it at face-value. Including Yuuri. As soon as he had learned that, he’d wanted to rush to his best friend and ask what he could do to help or at least be there for him. 

That was when he’d noticed something was different. It had happened slowly at first. It had started with Viktor averting his gaze whenever it would cross with Yuuri’s, walking away as soon as he would see him walking up the hallways. The sharp and hollow off putting feeling nagging at his gut only grew with each passing day. 

It was like a switched had been pushed and something had broken. 

When he couldn’t bear seeing the pain washing the ordinarily angel-like features, and tainting the nonchalant teasing of his eyes, he went up to confront Viktor with the clear goal of demanding answers. 

It didn’t go as planned because next thing he knew, Viktor was shoving him away with such force he’d ended up crashing on the floor. Yuuri would never forget the angry hurt on Viktor’s face that day shredding apart what Yuuri thought they shared, nor the suffocating agony that such a violent rejection had elicited. 

Years had gone by and the hurt had dampened down, leaving its way to an occasionally aching scar, with the customary habit of mockeries and sarcasm replacing the hugs and jokes. 

He didn’t pay attention to how their voices petered out as he walked away, focusing on his own thoughts and music. He had tried to make it better. And no matter what, Viktor hadn’t budged. He’d never even attempted to meet Yuuri halfway, and Yuuri had grown tired of being affected this much by the attitude of someone who clearly didn’t want anything to do with him. 

Viktor’s indifference, if nothing else, had been the catalyst for him to toughen up. He’d stopped caring. 

Or more accurately _convinced_ himself he’d stopped, but that was a subtlety Yuuri had been skilled at ignoring so far. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a few tags that I realized I forgot!  
> Viktor and Yurio are siblings in this! I just thought I'd say it here too in case you didn't see the added tag! 
> 
> Enjoy!

He put his earphones and phone in his backpack as soon as he reached his classroom, luckily enough, before the second bell continued the deafening mission the first bell had started.

“Mister Katsuki, what an honor, gracing us with your presence for the first time this week.”

Yuuri leveled a glance at his homeroom teacher, who was looking at him past his half-moon glasses, a malevolent gleam on his weasel-face. He was clearly enjoying seeing Yuuri coming in barely on time, assuming more or less accurately why, since he was the one responsible for Yuuri’s early morning. 

Yuuri willed his face into an impish – to not say insolent - flashing grin that drained every ounce of amusement off the teacher’s face. He went to sit in the row right in front from Yuuko and Mila, both drilling their eyes on him and stifling their laugh back. Yuuko had both hands over her mouth and Mila was biting her lip so hard Yuuri actually thought she’d broken the skin. 

“Mister Philips adores you even more than usual these days, doesn’t he,” Yuuko noted once she was sure she wouldn’t embarrass herself by laughing too loud. “Barely back, and you’re already getting on his last nerve.” 

Yuuri offered a sly smile. “Hey, what can I say? I did manage to not be a smart-ass this time. At least verbally,” he added with a slight wince.

Mila snorted, immediately covering her mouth with her hand just as she earned a venomous glare from their teacher. She leaned on her table to be closer to Yuuri. 

“I think you should be proud of yourself for that,” she said as she patted his shoulder. 

“I’ve always believed my biggest accomplishment in life should be to keep my mouth shut,” he retorted, not missing a beat. 

Yuuko shook her head, half rolling her eyes. “You’re such a dork!”

“Miss Ise, I do not think you should be taking Mister Katsuki as an example,” their teacher almost shouted. Yuuko jolted straight, eyes bolting out at the accusation. 

“What? But I-” 

“I don’t want to hear any excuses. You were speaking without any authorization, and if you think that whatever little chat you were indulging yourself in is more valuable than the time you could use to study, I suggest you go straight to the principal’s office and get detention.”

Yuuko’s mouth gaped open, before her face contorted into barely contained anger. She managed to hide it amazingly well when she retorted, considering how dark her glare had become. 

“I do not sir.” 

He cocked his head to the side, his lips twitching up in a barely contained smirk. 

Yuuri couldn’t help the sudden urge he felt to knock that expression away. Some people were definitely not meant to be teachers, and clearly this one was among them. His favorite pastime was to lash out on the students, most of the time in well-chosen verbal assault, subtle enough to be within the limit of acceptable, but too frequent to be tolerable. Not many students would speak back though, and Yuuri was one of the only one who dared. Other than him, there were few who valued a week’s worth of detention as a reasonable price to rectify the injustice, and he couldn’t blame them. He hated with a passion too, but his tongue escaped him more often than not. 

“Good. Then I suggest you come sit in the front, away from Miss Babicheva and our dear Mister Katsuki.” 

Yuuko clenched her teeth, but didn’t say anything. Yuuri’s eyes followed her movements as she went to sit to the table Mr. Philips had indicated. If she had any other remedy, she probably would snap as much as Yuuri did – if not more, and probably in Medusa-level kind of terrifying – but she didn’t have that luxury. She was part of the volleyball team and as captain she really couldn't afford to miss practice every day of the week because of “disciplinary issues”. 

Mila didn’t chime in either, but Yuuri could feel her glare drilling behind his back, even if it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t need to look back to know that there was a very good chance he’d flinch.

Seemingly forever later, the bell finally rang their salute, and Yuuri let a loud breath out, ignoring the dirty look Mr. Philips threw him. 

“What an ass…” 

Yuuri turned his head around, at Mila’s comment, offering a wholeheartedly agreeing smile. “Understatement of the year, but what else is new right?”

They made their way out the room, Yuuko walking up to catch up with them after receiving an additional chewing from their hated teacher. 

“I don’t know why we bother even going anymore. Whether we go or not we have almost the same percentage of chances to end up with detention,” Yuuko grumbled as soon as she caught up with them. 

Yuuri hummed noncommittally. “Perhaps, but it earned _me_ an express ticket to the counselor,” he complained, “so honestly I’d rather not having to relive the experience. Besides-” 

Before he could finish his sentence, someone crashed into him to the point Yuuri almost lost his balance. The abrupt halt took both the girls behind him by surprise and they both bumped painfully against his back. 

Yuuri didn’t make any attempt to prevent the small cry of pain that escaped his lips as he ended up sandwiched between the girls and…

“Yurio?!” he exclaimed, surprised mixed with irritation. “What in the world are you doing?”

The younger teen leveled a look at him that Yuuri could vouch was meant to be a glare, but obviously lacked any real motivation. Yuuri couldn’t make out the expression on the blond’s face. He seemed preoccupied by something, and he was worrying his lower lip, and beyond the initial stare he’d directed to Yuuri’s eyes, his gaze was now resolutely glued to the floor. 

Yuuri hummed, one eyebrow shooting up in a wordless question. Yuri lifted his head again, this time allowing himself to look at Yuuri’s face, but it was clear he was still hesitant and whatever was plaguing his mind didn’t seem to want to come out. 

“Yurio, did you need something?” Yuuri finally asked, letting his frustration from waiting for the teen to get to his point lace his tone. 

This time Yuri shot him a virulent glare that almost had Yuuri chuckle for the one-eighty Yuri just pulled off. He refrained from doing so however, his mind supplying that this might not exactly be well received. 

“Oh wow, you’re chatty today Yurio!” Mila deliberately snorted, looking down on the teen. 

“Shut hup hag!” Yuri snapped, and neither Mila nor Yuuri stifled their laugh this time. Yuuko simply smiled with fond indulgence. 

“Oh he talks!” Mila pressed on with a teasing smile pasted on her face. “And still as amiable as ever I see!” 

Yuri opened his mouth to retort another particularly inspired insult, but he froze when Yuuko ruffled his hair. His eyes went impossibly wide, and the blood immediately rushed to his cheeks. 

“It was nice to see you Yurio, it’s been a while!” she simply said quietly, with the same soft expression she harbored before. She retrieved her hand to herself, and turned to the others. 

“I’ll see you later, alright?”   
Yuuri nodded, knowing her class was two floors above their own.

“Yup, same, bye guys!” Mila waved and darted off. 

Yuuri refocused on the blond who looked just as agitated as earlier, but for an entirely different reason. Well, as far as Yuuri could assume that his previous worry didn’t have anything to do with why Yuri’s face was still faintly blushed. The teen shook his head energetically, and let out a low breath. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. 

Yuuri’s brows knitted together in confusion, his head jerking slightly at the sudden apology.   
“Eh? What for?”

“Bumping into you,” Yuri said on the same tone, as if that answered it all. 

Yuuri’s mouth opened, and then he closed it back in a frustrated pout. “Yurio, why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re here?” 

The words seemed to want to escape from Yuri, but hesitation was still perfectly obvious in the way he was shifting his weight between his feet and tugging at the hem of his shirt. He clenched his jaw forcefully and then let it all go. 

“Please be nice to Viktor,” he blurted out, so quickly that Yuuri almost didn’t catch them all. 

He did however, and their force hit him with such a strength he jerked back. He felt like a bucket of icy cold water had just been poured over his head, the weight of the words, of their meaning, heavying on his shoulders. 

His mouth gaped slightly open, and while his forehead wrinkled in pathetic denial, it was drained from its colors. 

He didn’t hear that right, did he? He wanted to scream, yell at Yuri that he had never been the one mean to Viktor, that the request was completely absurd on so many levels. It didn’t have any right to be, as it was Viktor who had crossed him out of his life like he was nothing more than a disposable toy. _He_ had _never_ done _anything_ that warranted the treatment Viktor had imposed on him these past years. And besides why would _Yuri_ of all people say _that_ , of all things. 

If Yuuri and Viktor had been estranged ever since 7th grade, Yuuri was far from oblivious and there was no chance he could have missed how something had broken between the siblings around the same time. He suspected it must have been related to whatever happened between Viktor and Yuuri, because ever since then, Yuuri had never seen the blond speaking to his older brother other than with insults and growling while to Yuuri, he was perfectly nice . Well as nice as Yuri could be to anyone, and even then Yuuri considered himself lucky to be spared the Yuri-Special-Treatment on most occasions. 

So why? Why would Yuri dropped this on him like a bomb already set to explode? 

So much for not caring anymore.

He didn’t voice any of these thoughts. They simply swirled around in his mind like a hurricane, making him feel dizzy. His nostrils flared, and his breathing came out harsher and more panted than he had expected, although he didn’t really register that fact on the moment. 

“Yuuri?” 

Yuri’s voice brought him back to earth, and he violently shook his head. He swallowed the painful lump that had lodged itself in the back of his throat and blinked several times in the hope it would help clear his fogged mind. 

His encounter with Viktor that morning came back to the forefront of his mind. He had been miles away from anticipating anything even closely related to what Yuri had just dropped on him when the blond had bumped into him. 

Instinctively he bit his lip in anger, his fists tightening into fists and he leveled a look to Yuri’s face. Yuri flinched but didn’t say anything, firmly camping his position and waiting for Yuuri to answer something. Anything really. 

The determination alighting the blond’s gaze, despite it being clear as day that he was very anxious to hear whatever Yuuri would say, twisted something in Yuuri’s gut, evaporating the anger that had previously been building up. Yuri must have perfectly measured the impact that his words would have; clearly he had been quite wary of voicing them. But he had said them anyway. Whatever his motivations, it must have been important. 

He sighed heavily, letting the last drops of anger fly away. 

“What the hell Yurio?” he breathed out laconically, shoulders slumping down. The teen exhaled in relief, and a flash crossed his face as he was undoubtedly trying, and failing to, find the words for whatever he would say now. 

“Just please,” he eventually said and Yuuri could have sworn he heard an imploring edge to his tone, “if he…” he bit back the words. He shook his head, dismissing them and moved to his second best option. “Just please.” 

Well that wasn’t confusing at all.

Yuuri refrained from rolling his eyes, and made sure his tone didn’t showcase the annoyance he felt. Yuri just sapped his moral rather brilliantly and now the teen refused to provide him with any sort of explanation. 

Apparently that was a family trait, he thought bitterly. 

He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, and shook his head in reluctant acceptance. 

“Fine.” 

Yuri’s face lit up subtly at that, and a hint of a smile flashed on his lips. He swallowed and made a very sharp and small movement of the head, which Yuuri interpreted as a thankful nod, and he turned on his heels and scurried off in the hallway. 

Looked like his day kept getting better. With a little luck maybe he had reached his quota for getting shit for one day. His face deflated not a second after the thought was verbalized in his mind. It was only second period, there was still plenty of time for things to get _even fucking better_. 

The bell tugged him out of his thoughts with a start. And the reality that it brought with the shrilling sound crashed on him and he swore loudly, breaking into a sprint to his next class before he was late again. 

“Of fucking course!”

***

Yuri’s words had been swimming aimlessly and absolutely unproductively in his mind for the entire 2nd period - to which he arrived late by the way; again - and he wasn’t sure what confused him more. What Yuri had said, why he had said it, or probably more disturbing still, how Yuuri had reacted at hearing it. 

Yuuri and Viktor saw each other every day. It was impossible to avoid each other in the hallways, and considering the obvious indifference at best and plain annoyance at worse elicited by seeing the silver-head, he felt profusely confused at his own visceral reaction. The distressed anger that had laced his spine and banged in his head was still echoing in his mind, and now all he could feel was how upset he was at it all. Upset at Yuri for saying the words in the first place, upset at his insistence and at how he had looked like as he said it, and at himself for both his idiotic and childish reaction and caving to the demand.

What had he gotten himself into? 

“Be nice to Viktor”? Really? And since when did Yuri care this much? Whenever they talked, the blond made it a point to actively leave out that particular name out of their conversation. Beside the frustration that was showing in his whole frame as he walked to 3rd period, he couldn’t brush off the look displayed on Yuri’s face earlier. 

As he approached the room, he huffed loudly to pull out of his mind and refocus on Phichit’s bright face smiling at him as soon as he passed through the open door. 

“Yo!” he exclaimed with a ridiculous movement of his hand in welcome.

“Hey,” he smiled without much conviction. Phichit’s demeanor evaporated on the spot, and he deadpanned at his friend.

“What happened?” 

Yuuri refrained from replying ‘nothing’ or rolling his eyes because all that would do is unleashing a hurricane of questions and attention – which was the definition of torture, if anyone was to ask Yuuri’s opinion on the matter – and he really didn’t have the patience to endure that at the moment. 

He shrugged instead, making sure he looked at Phichit in the eyes to make him understand this wasn’t an absolute dismissal of the question. His friend didn’t need him to voice the words to know what had just crossed his mind, and Yuuri was grateful for Phichit was simply looking at him with contained sorry weariness, but overall understanding. 

He’d tell Phichit eventually, probably sooner rather than later if their record was consistent: he never had kept anything from Phichit very long. Not that he could really, because his friend could be very persuasive. 

As for now, he simply had the feeling that focusing on French would be a much better idea than recalling every detail of what had happened earlier for another millionth time. Especially out loud. 

He dropped his bag on the table next to Phichit, not paying attention to the chaos evolving around him. Sitting down, he slumped down forward on his table, resting his chin on his folded hands. He could literally feel the drilling stare that Phichit was gifting him with, and he pursed his lips. 

“Did something happen because of Viktor again?

Yuuri sighed deeply. “Phich, please.”

For a second Phichit didn’t seem to budge. Or at least Yuuri didn’t notice any movement that would indicate otherwise from the corner of his eyes. He turned his head toward him, still leaving it resting in his hands and quirked an unyielding eyebrow in Phichit’s direction. His friend half-huffed, half-snorted and gave up with a majestic eye roll that involved his whole body loosening up. 

Yuuri allowed a small amused smile to creep up on his face, but it wasn’t long before it was replaced with a quizzical frown when Phichit’s stance tensed very subtly again. Only for a moment but it was enough for Yuuri to pick up on it. 

“What now?”

Phicht didn’t answer right away, but his focus came back to Yuuri instantly, and when their eyes met, the suggestion he made wasn’t exactly in the options Yuuri had automatically concocted in his mind. 

“What about, we play a game?” 

“Hah?” was all Yuuri could manage to voice at the moment. He deadpanned Phichit, judgment obvious in his eyes. 

Phichit chuckled, but Yuuri wasn’t sure whether that was a genuine attempt to make fun of him, or to mask his embarrassment. Considering how Phichit, by far one of the least embarrassable person on earth, was now fidgeting with the strap of his backpack, something was up. 

Yuuri was about to ask what, but before he could utter even his name, he noticed the fast glance Phichit threw behind him. It had been fast and if Yuuri’s gaze hadn’t been glued to Phichit’s face he would have missed it for sure. 

With a frown, he straightened just enough to turn his head around, and he regretted instantly. 

“Let me guess, you were about to say ‘let’s play the game where you don’t turn around’, right?”

Viktor was standing in the doorway, and he wasn’t being subtle. His gaze was riveted to Yuuri and the raven-haired teenager felt himself deflate on the spot. He crashed his head in his backpack, still propped up on his desk, grumbling under his breath. 

His day kept getting better. In his focus over what Yuri had asked, he’d forgotten that Viktor was bound to come to class too. Despite sharing French several times a week, he always employed whatever means necessary to positively ignore him. The fact that Viktor was not far off from being bilingual and never lost an opportunity to showcase it wasn’t exactly a helper. It took some getting used to, but he eventually managed to tune out the silver-head interventions in class. 

“Mister Nikiforov are you going to keep perfecting the art of doing nothing longer or are you going to go and take a seat?” a stern voice interrupted Yuuri’s thought, and he glanced back up to Miss Lilia, their French teacher. 

The comment made him glance to where Viktor had been standing when he’d last checked, and… _damn_. Still standing there like a moron, and still staring at him as if Yuuri was the last human being on earth. What was wrong with him today anyway? 

This morning already he’d seemed off. He was usually much more lively and vocal, even if Yuuri had seen through the mask long ago. No, apparently today, Viktor was just doing that: standing and staring. 

Yuuri cocked his head slightly to the side, and send him a harsh challenging look. It seemed to trigger something in Viktor because he flinched, and his gaze flickered to Miss Lilia and then back to Yuuri, before dropping it to the floor. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Yuuri turned back toward Phichit who was now staring at Viktor intently, a thoughtful expression painted on his features. “He’s been acting out all week.” 

So Yuuri wasn’t the only one thinking something was off. In fact, they apparently weren’t the only ones at all: most of the class had noticed Viktor’s awkward attitude. From the corner of his eyes, Yuuri saw Anya, who he often saw hanging out with Viktor’s closest circle of friends openly stare at him, expression unreadable. 

He hummed and shrugged noncommittally. It wasn’t like he cared much. Curious perhaps, but caring was a bit much. Right? He couldn’t help the voiceless question, even as the memory of his previous over-exaggerated reaction to Yuri’s request came back forth in his mind, he shook his head violently in denial. 

“No clue, he was being a weirdo earlier too,” he answered back. 

“Nous allons commencer, sortez vos affaires et je ne veux pas un bruit, c’est compris?” 

A flash of annoyance crossed Miss Lilia’s face when her question was solely met by discordant chorus, and every student jolted back upright and answered properly this time.   
She looked satisfied and she started talking some nonsense about tense sequencing and ‘plus-que-parfait du subjonctif’ and ‘accord du COD’. 

Yuuri did his best to take his notes properly this time, but Phichit kept throwing glances at him and making faces of mocked panic at whatever grammar point was being explained. 

“Monsieur Katsuki, si vous pouviez cesser ces ricanements, je vous en serez très reconnaissante.” 

Yuuri flinched but kept his mouth tightly shut. He wasn’t sure he’d understood every single word of that, but the tone was enough to tell him that she had noticed his inattentive chuckles. It was one thing to snap at Mister Philips once in a while, but he would never allow himself to do the same with Miss Lilia. He respected her too much for that.

At the bell, Miss Lilia simply gave them a heavy list of exercises to do, and warned them all she wouldn’t tolerate any more chatter nor inattention in her class. At that she pointedly stared at Yuuri, who slumped a little on himself and offered a sheepish smile to his professor.   
She wiggled her eyebrows and waved it off, nudging toward the door in a silent forgiveness. 

“I’ll see you at lunch Phich. I think Mila and Yuuko might join us,” Yuuri said before going towards the next class. 

“Ook! See ya later!”

He went to his locker first, in order to switch some notebooks and pick up his geography book. He didn’t notice the slightly taller figure approaching him, so focused he was on composing his combination. When he finally caught a glimpse of a shadow standing close to him, he yelped in surprise, and snapped his head around, crashing in the lockers in the process. 

Viktor was standing there, and staring at him. Again. 

He brought a hand to his pounding heart. He exhaled loudly a heavy load of air, exteriorizing the scare, but as he inhaled back the frustration was threatening to burst out of his mouth. He greeted his teeth, rolling his eyes. 

“Damn it Viktor! What the hell?” he snapped drilling the other teenager with a glare twice as murderous as Yuri’s. 

Viktor gulped, and he was fidgeting with the book he was holding under his arm. As Yuuri noticed his demeanor, he had to resist the urge of scoffing at the irony once more. Viktor was looking exactly like Yuri had an hour earlier. 

“Seriously what’s wrong with you Nikiforovs,” he grumbled. 

Viktor’s jaw immediately clenched and his look hardened. It struck Yuuri like he’d been punched in the gut, but he didn’t let any of it show on his face. He hadn’t been on the receiving end of that look since a very long time. 

In fact the last he’d seen was a little after he’d painfully ended up on the floor for the sole motive of having wanted to help a friend. 

“What do you want?” Yuuri asked sharply. 

Oh he had some nerves, staring at him for god knows how long, scaring him without any apology and then throwing glances like Yuuri had personally offended him with the mere sound of his voice. Viktor’s armor seemed to crack again, and he shifted his weight between his feet. Yuuri was losing his patience, but his meeting with Yuri earlier resonated in his ears, and even more so when Viktor’s behavior at this moment shared such a striking resemblance to his brother. 

It’s not like he had _promised_ to the blond to be nice or anything, but he did technically agree he would be. Promise or not, he’d still at least try. Even if Viktor was making it very difficult. 

“Are you gonna start talking before the end of the day or should I come back later?” 

Yuuri was expecting him to return the glare, but this time nothing came, and Viktor looked even more conflicted. His forehead was wrinkled under the weight of whatever was on his mind and aside from the earlier glare he didn’t seem to be able to bring himself to look at Yuuri’s face.

To his great annoyance. 

Yuuri huffed in frustration edging on anger and turned his back on him. He saw from the corner of his eyes the way Viktor gaped at his obvious indifference. Yuuri didn’t dwell on it, if Viktor had come here to say something then he should just get it over with instead of wasting his time so blatantly. Yuuri wrenched off the lock as soon as it was opened, and he almost let himself smile at how he caught the way Viktor flinched at the brutality of the gesture. Viktor always seemed to keep a cool-headed approach to everything, even when he was smirking petulantly at Yuuri, and seeing him now flinching like a jittery bird was oddly satisfying. 

Yuuri yanked his book in his bag and went for switching his notebooks, aware that Viktor’s eyes were still glued on him. This was getting awkward. 

He slammed the door and locked it before twisting his body in order to face the silver-head and leveled a gaze at him, channeling his impatience in the wordless question. He’d try once more. If Viktor kept being a stubborn idiot about this, Yuuri won’t make any more effort of leaving him the space to talk.   
That would be enough to fulfill what he hadn’t-so-quite-promised-but-still-kind-of to Yuri, and he won’t have to feel guilty about it. After all, he hadn't been anywhere close to being mean. 

Frustration didn’t count as being mean, and even if it did, this was entirely justified. 

As he was about to huff in dismissal after waiting a few seconds, something in Viktor's expression stopped him. His eyes were filled with something he’d seen before, only seen on one occurrence, and he couldn’t look away. His shoulders slackened and he intently eyed him. Viktor’s eyes were shimmering, filled with a painful mix of fear and hurt, and silently imploring not to turn his back to him. 

Yuuri closed his mouth, only realizing it’d gaped open at how drastically the emotions whirled on Viktor’s face, and he breathed out slowly trying to make himself be more affable. 

“What is it Viktor?” he asked again, a much softer edge to his tone that seemed to settle Viktor. 

He cleared his voice and a couple of sharp shake of his head later, his face had somewhat returned to a semblance of the calm it usually harbored. He stayed silent still, but this time it was clear to Yuuri that he would talk. So he waited for him to do so. 

“I need your help.” 

_Oh boy_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! :) 
> 
> *
> 
> French translation:   
> "Nous allons commencer, sortez vos affaires et je ne veux pas un bruit, c’est compris?" - We will start, please take what you need and I do not want to hear anything, understood? 
> 
> "Monsieur Katsuki, si vous pouviez cesser ces ricanements, je vous en serez très reconnaissante" - Mister Katsuki, if you could cease these cackles, I would be extremely grateful.
> 
> As for: "plus-que-parfait du subjonctif" and "accord du COD", you don't need to know. French grammar at its best, it's evil, and I hate it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm gonna try to keep a Monday, Wednesday, Friday posting schedule from now on, now that we're starting a new week! :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Yuuri was very aware that he’d frozen on the spot, but all he could feel was an eruption of emotions building up in his stomach. 

Viktor was looking at him with a cautious, but noticeably present, desperation, and all Yuuri could think about was trying to piece out how in hell his day had turned out to be so irritatingly bad. He couldn’t even breathe out the confusion, too focused on the whirlwind dizzying his mind. 

Viktor wasn’t even saying anything anymore, and Yuuri wasn’t sure that was preferable or not. Yuuri wanted him to give an explanation, a reason as to why he was now standing there like an idiot and causing Yuuri to once more question the partiality of fate in the way it shared daily inconveniences to everyone. He must have done something in another life that guaranteed fate deities to be so mad at him, or else he couldn’t vouch for anything anymore. 

Oblivious to Yuuri’s private monologue, Viktor seemed to have made a point on assessing the terrain before he’d blurred out his request. Considering their track record that might be safer but it was irritating Yuuri to the highest point. 

He couldn’t just decide to help him based on four miserable words. What in the world was he thinking?  
When it was obvious Viktor wasn’t going to use human language any time soon, Yuuri tutted and huffed in impatience. 

“Why are you making a point of pissing me off?” 

A stark flash of surprise crossed Viktor’s features but it didn’t stay on long. He met Yuuri’s glare with nothing but plead and despite the twisting of his gut at the sight, Yuuri didn’t falter. 

“I need your help,” he repeated with a voice subtly less assured than before. As if Yuuri’s words had shattered whatever conviction he possessed. 

Yuuri rolled his eyes and shifted his weight on one leg.

“Yeah you’ve said that. What you didn’t say is what with, and perhaps more importantly, why of all people would you come to me?” 

His conversation with Yuri was replaying in his mind.

Right. Now Yuri’s intervention kind of made more sense, or at least wasn’t entirely absurd anymore. He must have known something was bothering his brother and by divine intervention he’d thought that Viktor would come to Yuuri for help. 

That. Did. Not. Make. Sense.

“Makkachin’s disappeared.”

Ok. That did make a little sense.

Yuuri’s heart sank and his breath hitched. _What?_

His brows knitted together in shock just as his mouth opened slightly, but no word was there ready to be voiced and heard. He was mute because out of all the scenarios he could have imagined, that wasn’t one of them. It seemed to be a recurrence these days. 

Ever since Viktor had pushed him away, Yuuri’s image of his former best friend had thoroughly crumbled, only to be replaced with a viscerally detestable snarky and selfish character. If it did occur to Yuuri that the change had been brought about through a self-protection mechanism, he had never actually acknowledged the merit the thought held. The pain he’d felt when Viktor had rejected him so blatantly wasn’t something he wanted to ever allow in his heart again. 

But seeing Viktor like this was a shock that Yuuri had in no way been prepared for. 

His gaze had drifted to the floor and when he brought it back on Viktor’s face, his heart tightened again. The devastation that was fighting to make its way on his features was painfully obvious, and that was a feeling Yuuri knew all too well. If anything happened to Vicchan, he’d be utterly crushed.

Besides, Makkachin held a special place in both of their lives, despite everything else. 

Yuuri was about to ask what had happened but it looked like a dam had broken, and the flow of words Viktor blurted out wasn’t something he could have stopped even if he had tried. 

“I don’t know where she is, it’s been two days, and no one has called to say they’ve seen her! I mean, it’s not a big town, everyone knows she’s my dog, someone should have seen her and call me, right? Does that mean she’s lost forever? I can’t lose her too! I…”

When he started sobbing in between the words, butchering them under his erratic breathing, Yuuri didn’t bother looking around to see if anyone was staring at them because he knew that was probably the case. 

Viktor Nikiforov sobbing in the hallway to Yuuri Katsuki was probably something they'd all see only once in a lifetime. 

That wasn’t the main focus of Yuuri at the moment, though. He didn’t even think about what he was doing before they were both in the nearest boy’s bathroom. As soon as Viktor’s speech had started becoming nonsensical, Yuuri had grabbed him by his arm and forcefully tugged him in the bathroom, away from any prying eye. 

There, Viktor broke down. Even if he was a little stunned by what Yuuri had just done, he wasn’t as far gone in his sobbing that he didn’t register why he’d done it. And now that they were alone, he didn’t bother swallowing back the tears. 

The sobs were wracking his body and if he wasn’t standing so close to the sinks Yuuri was sure he would have crashed on the floor. 

Yuuri was at a loss. He had no idea what to do. He’d never seen Viktor like that, not ever, and even if he had, the pain ringing in every sobs and mirroring in every tear was so raw and, for the first time in years, entirely unguarded. Yuuri had the thought that there weren’t a lot of people who would have seen him lowering his defenses like that, and the fact that of all people Viktor was allowing Yuuri in, made him even more uncomfortable. 

He was fidgeting in his place, throwing glances back and forth between Viktor and the door and before he could think better of it, he turned the lock on. The sound made Viktor lift his head out of his hands, and as he took in the sight of Yuuri’s hand retreating slowly from the lock, he flashed a look in his direction in understanding, turning away just as fast. 

He tried to breathe in and out slower, and to calm himself down before talking. His breathing still came out with tremors as he stifled the sobs, and Yuuri didn’t say anything. He could do that much. 

Once Viktor seemed calm enough to be able to speak without breaking down again, Yuuri took a few steps toward the wall and leaned against it, arms crossed.

“I’m sorry,” he started with. No need to upset the silver-head any more than he already was by rushing into prompting him to explain exactly what happened. 

Viktor’s eyes fluttered shut before he rubbed them off of the tears with the heel of his hands. Yuuri couldn’t help the uninvited tugging the sight provoked in the pit of his stomach. Regret? Melancholy? Viktor looked like an innocent naive child, and it was nothing but distracting. He looked down, waiting for the other to explain. 

“I was tutoring a couple of kids the day she disappeared,” he finally said, Yuuri back at watching him intently. “And because the parents were running late I proposed to stay longer and baby-sit. I didn’t mind really, I had my bag with me if I needed to study at some point and the kids are nice.” 

Yuuri didn’t need to hear all the details, but he knew from experience that it was easier for people to recall all the events and talk about them however they had happened or felt like it had happened or they would get emotional. 

“It was pretty late already, like 10 or something and I heard noise coming from outside. Makkachin has to stay outside the house whenever I go there, one of the kid is allergic to dogs. But then I heard her bark, and she rarely does unless she wants to warn me or if she’s happy about something.” 

His voice almost cracked, and he swallowed to allow himself time before going on. 

“And when she did again, several times, I knew something was up. So I went to look outside, and she.. she…” he trailed off, and fresh tears sprang out. He snapped his eyes back into Yuuri, who was slightly taken aback but the sudden move. 

“She wasn’t there,” he sobbed. “Yuuri, she wasn’t there.” 

Yuuri flinched at his name. 

“It’s been two days already and I don’t know what to do. She’s never run away, why would she now? It wouldn’t make sense! Someone must have taken her!” 

Yuuri’s eyes bulged out. 

“Wow, wow Viktor calm down,” he peeled himself off the wall and took a step in his direction. “Don’t make assumptions already, it’s entirely possible she ran away, but that doesn’t mean she’s not coming back. Vicchan’s disappeared a couple of days once or twice too, and both times he came back. Maybe something scared her off, or she got curious about, I don’t know an ice cream truck and ran behind it.” 

It didn’t seem to settle Viktor at all, but he didn’t comment on it, simply staring at Yuuri like he was from Mars. 

That brought Yuuri back to earth, and on why exactly they were doing here. He shook his head.

“Why do you need my help though?” 

As soon as the words were out in the open, he cursed himself. The answer was coating Viktor’s features before he even had to voice it. 

“I need you to help me find her,” he stated simply, like he’d state the fact that they had French together. 

“I don’t see what I can do, you should go to the police Viktor.”

A suspicious wince flashed on his classmate’s face and Yuuri sighed. “Have you? Gone to the police I mean?” 

Viktor remained mute and the silence became awkward. 

“Seriously Viktor?” Yuuri snapped. “Makka disappears and the only thing you can think of is coming and see _me_? What makes you think I even want to help you?!” 

Something close to remorse came alight in Viktor’s eyes. 

“If you were that worried why didn’t you go and see the police right away huh? Why wait for me to come back?” 

“I heard you were helping people out with that kind of stuff sometimes…” he said lamely. 

Yuuri quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? Who said that?” 

“Chris.” 

Of course… Damn it, Chris!

“I don’t, I help _friends_ out when they need it that’s all.” 

_And you clearly made your point clear that you weren’t interested in being one of them_ , he thought bitterly. 

Viktor seemed to have grasped the subtle change on Yuuri’s face because he deflated a little. 

“Please. I’m terrified something has happened to her.” 

That did it. 

Yuuri knew he was doomed the second Viktor had invoked his fear for Makkachin. He could very well play the angry guy, and in truth he was upset at Viktor for the galls he had to request Yuuri’s help. But he was the one who had paired the two up, and Yuuri was very attached to Makkachin. He didn’t want anything to happen to her, and whatever happened with Viktor would not change that. It was clear Viktor was crushed under the fear of losing her, and despite everything Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to allow that to happen. 

He bit his lips in frustration at the whole situation, and casted his eyes skywards, cursing whatever deity was indulging themselves in tormenting him. 

“Fine,” he repeated, the same thing he’d said to Yuri. Now the request had lost its entire initial absurdity and he felt a surge of affection for how the blond had put aside his anger and went out of his way to help his brother. 

Viktor lifted his head up at that, breath hitching and hope anew on his face. “What?” 

“Fine I’ll help you.” 

Viktor exhaled deeply, and rubbed his face clear off the new wave of fresh tears trailing down his cheeks. 

“Thank you,” he breathed out, but Yuuri waved it off. 

“Let’s talk about it later, I’m gonna be late for class and I can’t afford someone else commenting on it today.” 

Yuuri saw how Viktor’s stance deflated a little at that, but he had to understand that even if Yuuri had agreed to help, he wasn’t a miracle worker, and skipping class wouldn’t help them achieve their goal. 

“Go to class too Viktor, there’s nothing you can actually do right now,” he said, an ounce of exasperation passing through. 

If Viktor wanted to retort anything he didn’t. He simply opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like a goldfish in a bowl. 

Yuuri unlocked the door, and exited the bathroom promptly. If he could avoid spending more time than strictly necessary in a room alone with Viktor, he wasn’t going to pass the opportunity. 

***

When lunch time rolled around, he joined Phichit who was talking animatedly with Mila, at one of the table in the wide patio.

They both looked enthralled into whatever the topic was, and when Yuuri approached them  
Phichit was frantically hammering his pointer finger on the table, emphasizing whatever argument he was making. 

“What I’m saying, is that applying the same tuition fees to everyone isn’t fair! We’re not all super rich!”

Mila quirked an eyebrow. “Stop being so riled up, I never said I didn’t agree with that! But can you explain how you’d change it though? Cause I sure can’t!” she counter-attacked vehemently. 

“Hey guys,” Yuuri said as he was sitting down, waving at Yuuko who was eating with Takeshi two tables over. 

Neither of his own tablemates bothered looking up though, so without commenting further he simply took out his lunch out of the paper bag his mother had packed it in. 

As he was opening the Tupperware with precautions, Phichit clammed up and Mila gasped. 

He stilled, both hands on the box halfway through opening it, and looked up to his friends, eyeing them above his glasses to see what exactly had caused them to stop their passionate debate. 

“What?” he asked warily, before he noticed how neither of them was looking at him, but rather to something behind him. 

Yuuri frowned and turned around. He jolted in surprise as someone was standing _very_ closely behind him. 

He didn’t need to look up to know who that person was, and he immediately barked angrily.

“Damn it Viktor! Seriously, second time!” 

He felt Phichit’s stare drilling his eyes into him at that, but he ignored it.

“Sorry,” he said lamely. “Hum, I thought we could…” he trailed off purposely, twisting his upper body to point toward a free table a little further away, making his intention clear.

That did little to soothe Yuuri who grumbled as he palmed the table, perhaps a little more forcefully than necessary, to support himself as he got out of the narrow bench. 

He closed the box hastily, and shot an apologetic look to his friends.

“I’ll explain I promise,” he said when Phichit threw him an appalled judgmental look. 

Yuuri followed Viktor to the table. They both sat down, and Yuuri put everything back on the table, not making any further movement indicating he was going to eat. Instead he propped both elbows on the table and crossed his arms. 

Viktor was fumbling with the notebooks he’d put on the table, playing with the pages to the point of ripping the top corner. 

Yuuri refrained from huffing. This was going to get awkward fast, not to mention annoying. 

“Ok let’s get to it,” that pulled Viktor out of his uncomfortable stance and he looked back at Yuuri. “What can you tell me on the day Makkachin disappeared? Is what you told me earlier all there is to know?” 

“That was the circumstances yes. I wasn’t home, and she disappeared when I was tutoring. I’m sure someone took her.”

Yuuri noticed how his voice wasn’t shaking anymore. It was firm and Viktor got right to the point. Despite feeling reassured that his wouldn’t be a do-over of their earlier encounter, he didn’t want Viktor insinuating stuff. He wiggled his eyebrows in disapprobation and Viktor stared at him daringly. Oh there he was back, the Viktor he’d come to know. 

“What? You don’t believe me?” 

Yuuri breathed out in annoyance.

“I’m not doubting you, I’m just skeptical over the evidence you have to back up your assumptions. Nothing is proving that Makkachin has been abducted or anything.” 

The expression on Viktor’s face clearly showed his disagreement. Yuuri gritted his teeth, trying not to show the frustration building up. 

“What I’m saying,” he said calmly, slightly leaning on the table, “is that you can’t assume something like that based off your sole impression.” 

Viktor stared at him defiantly a few more seconds before his stance relaxed. Yuuri took that as his cue to continue. 

“Ok so that was what, on Monday? You said it happened two days ago?” 

Viktor nodded. 

“What I don’t get is why you didn’t go see the police right away if you thought something was wrong?” 

“You just said it might be nothing!” Viktor exclaimed and Yuuri had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Instead he breathed out slowly and explained as calmly as he could. 

“Yes I did, but clearly that’s not what _you_ thought when it happened! My question is, feeling the way you were, why didn’t you go see someone competent?”

Viktor snorted, Yuuri could recognize his usual self in the sound and he had to resist gritting his teeth. 

“Are you calling yourself incompetent?” He asked with a sharp teasing edge that wasn’t exactly friendly. 

Yuuri ignored the tone, and managed to reply as evenly as possible. 

“If truly that was the case neither of us would be here right now,” he retorted and that successfully shut Viktor up. 

“They wouldn’t have been capable of doing anything.” 

Yuuri quirked an eyebrow. “And I’m more capable than a police force, how…?” 

Viktor didn’t reply and in fact he was looking everywhere but to Yuuri. “I’m curious as to what prompted you to think that you’d have a better chance with me.” 

Yuuri wasn’t expecting Viktor to answer to that, which is why he hadn’t meant it as anything more than a rhetorical question. Whatever motivations Viktor had gathered to push him to go see Yuuri, he probably wouldn’t share them, with Yuuri even less so than with anyone else. 

“Anyway,” he said again setting both hands flat on the table, “is there anything else you could tell me to help us move on with this?” 

Viktor nodded. “I was serious when I said that I’m sure someone took her,” he started with a stern look at Yuuri to make sure he wouldn’t get contradicted on the matter. “I’ve seen someone from our school with different dogs every day for the past few weeks and it didn’t strike me as odd until there were dogs disappearing all over town.”

Yuuri frowned. He hadn’t heard about any of that, and if Viktor was right, this was definitely something he should look into. 

“This guy didn’t come to class the day Makka disappeared. We share a few classes together, and he’s never missed any. I’ve never actually talked to him, he’s very elusive and never really talks with anyone, but I noticed because it struck everyone as a little weird.” 

“You seem to have put a lot of thought into this,” Yuuri noted thoughtfully. “Ok, I’ll look into it, can you tell me the name of that guy?” 

“I’m not sure about his first name actually” 

Yuuri deadpanned, absolutely unimpressed. “You’re joking right? You’ve been sharing not one but several classes with that guy, I’m sure you’ve heard his first name at least once.”

Viktor took a defensive demeanor and immediately retorted. 

“Do _you_ know the complete name of every student in all your classes?” 

“If I suspected one of having kidnapped my dog, I sure would!” 

That shut Viktor up again. Yuuri sighed before moving on.

“Do you know his last name at least?” 

“Yes, it’s Lee… or something”

Yuuri would probably have glared at him for his forgetfulness, if the surprise of hearing that name hadn’t been so sudden. 

“Seung-Gil Lee?” He said, dumbfounded. 

“Oh yes that’s the name!” 

Yuuri looked quizzically at Viktor. He did really seem sure of what he was saying, and even if putting aside the eventuality in which he was just looking from someone to blame, Yuuri strongly doubted it. Even if losing Makkachin could very well lead him into doing very irrationally idiotic things, blaming someone for the heck of it wasn’t something Yuuri thought Viktor capable of doing. 

But then again, it wasn’t like he knew Viktor anymore, after not talking for almost five years. 

“Honestly I doubt Seung-Gil could have anything to do with that, but I’ll look into it,” he promised as he was gathering his still untouched meal. 

“Don’t you find it a weird coincidence that he wasn’t there exactly on the day that Makkachin disappeared, or that he’s always seen with different dogs coincidently with the beginning of a series of dog abduction?” 

Viktor looked fiercely convinced by his own reasoning, and he didn’t seem ready to let it go. 

“Maybe, but like you said it might simply be that: a coincidence. Nothing is ensuring that what you’re saying is what happened, as from my experience, it’s too easy to let ourselves be swept away by what seems obvious.” 

“Are you always so distrustful?” 

Yuuri lifted his gaze in his direction. Viktor’s voice had been sharp and harsh, clearly reproaching Yuuri’s prudence.

Yuuri’s demeanor didn’t change, he was calm and his voice didn’t quiver. 

“Not distrustful. Cautious,” he retorted, getting up from the bench, and the surprised glance Viktor couldn’t help from throwing at the movement didn’t escape him. “I’ve learned it the hard way, and besides, it seems to me that if you’re here, asking for _my_ help, you probably already know how good I am with what I do,” he added, his voice full of a confident challenge. 

Viktor didn’t reply simply staring at how Yuuri was putting his bag on his shoulder, clearly indicating he was leaving.

It occurred to Yuuri that he probably had expected them to eat together, and it almost made Yuuri want to laugh. 

He didn’t look back, and went straight in direction of the table where Phichit and Mila had been joined by Leo and Minami. 

He didn’t let it show on his face but he knew he’d be welcomed with an avalanche of questions and he dreaded the moment he’d fall victim to it. 

“Hey guys,” he smiled at Leo and Minami, who greeted him the same way. But they all jolted out of their skin when Phichit sprang out of his seat and slammed both hands on the table, incidentally knocking Minami’s water bottle down.

“Yuuri Katsuki! Explanation. Now!” 

Yuuri was the only one who had remained somewhat composed at the scream, more than used to Phichit’s outbursts. 

“I said I would, don’t get excited,” he replied laconically and not making any efforts to spill the beans faster. “It’s not what you look like you think it is,” he added when he was seated and ready to - finally - eat his meal. 

Phichit scanned with an unimpressed skeptical look, and finally sat back down. “Ok then, what is it? You already looked preoccupied this morning, was that because of Viktor?” 

Yuuri hummed, mouthful of his rice salad preventing him from answering in any other way.

“And what the heck was that just now?” he asked pointing behind Yuuri’s shoulder to where Viktor was probably still sitting. 

Yuuri swallowed, and put down his fork, knowing he’ll have a hard time eating with the inquisition that would inevitably follow. 

“I ran into Yurio this morning, or rather he ran into me to be more specific.”

“Oh yes, what did he say after we left?” Mila intervened. “It looked like he’d swallowed a lemon,” she mused. 

Yuuri raised his eyebrows at how accurate the image sounded.

“He asked me to be nice to Viktor.”

The declaration was followed by a deafening silence as they all froze, eyes bugging out. Leo was the first to recover, while Phichit looked like his jaw was going to fall off considering how wide it opened. 

Yuuri eyed him worriedly before turning his attention to Leo. 

“Why would he ask you that?” 

Yuuri was grateful for the simple curiosity instead of the inquisitive tone he would have received from Phichit or the squealing that only his cousin could have produced. 

“He didn’t give me any details actually,” he settled on, looking in Mila’s direction before he ate half of the boiled egg in his bento. “But he did look like it was important, so I couldn’t very well refuse him that.” 

Why he’d made the decision not to reveal why Viktor needed his help, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like Viktor had insisted on it being kept a secret, especially with how particularly obvious he had been since that morning. 

It was a split-moment decision, his mouth speaking before he could even settle on what to say. But for some reason, being about Makkachin made Yuuri want to try and be cautious with what he said. In the infinitesimal chance that Viktor was right regarding what happened to Makka, Yuuri wanted to make sure he didn’t reveal anything that could impair his chances of finding her.

“That’s why you looked like you’d seen a ghost before French,” Phichit seemed to have recovered enough to form coherent sentence and he’d dropped the shocked expression for genuine interest. 

Yuuri hummed noncommittally while the others were still looking at him expectantly. Yuuri noticed how Phichit’s stance changed at that. He seemed to realize his reluctance to go more into details, because instead of pressing him further as he would usually do, he kept quiet. He didn’t prompt the others to drop the matter either, and Yuuri was grateful, for that would tip them all that something was definitely wrong.

Phichit Chulanont refusing a good piece of gossip was unheard of. Very few knew how discrete he could be when it mattered, and at this moment Yuuri had never been happier to be among those who were aware of that fact.

He was aware he had to say something though, there was no getting out of this one. 

“Turns out, he did need help because he lost something, and Chris apparently mentioned that I had helped other students on such matters,” he said shrugging and keeping his voice as indifferent as possible in the hope it would dampen down the curiosity of the others. 

Yuuri took a mental step back before explaining further. He remembered how rattled Viktor had looked right before he brought him to the bathroom, and the raw anguish that had overwhelmed him as he’d cry. For a reason he couldn’t figure out, this wasn’t something he wanted to share. It wouldn’t be fair to him, and even if considering their chaotic relationship he shouldn’t feel sorry if he indeed decided to give them the details, the thought only made his insides turn over. 

“What? What did he lose?” Minami shrilled. 

The question allowed the same weight he’d felt hearing Viktor’s reasons for coming to him, hovering in his chest making itself known once more. 

“Nothing important actually,” he lied schooling a smile on his lips just as the words made him feel sick. He’d never thought he’d ever had to call Makkachin ‘not important’, and the fact that he had to keep a straight face saying it made it infinitely harder than it already was. 

If he wasn’t sure they’d believe him, he was vaguely aware that was probably only because he felt awful for the words. He knew he was a good liar, and he could easily fool them if need be. It simply felt like acid had been poured down his throat this time around. 

“It’s fine though, I’m gonna look into it,” he assured with a confident smile before he added “I’ll just potentially have to spend time with Viktor for that,” his tone intentionally laced with exaggerated bitterness that tugged smiles around the table. 

The others seemed to take the hint, and Mila instantly diverted the conversation topic back to whatever they had been discussing before Yuuri’s intervention, and this time he joined them in their heated debate on the socio-economic segregation in their city. 

Yuuri finally went to throw away the apple core and the plastic wrap of the cake he just engulfed, only to come back to their table short of his cousin. 

He frowned and turned to Leo.  
“Where did Minami go?” 

“He signed up for diving but there were like four people in the class, so they cancelled it and stuck him as an office aid,” Leo explained with an entertained expression on his face. 

Yuuri straightened up at the news, an idea springing in his mind. “Oh they did, hah?”

Leo gave him a quizzical look, but Yuuri was already on his feet again, and yanked his backpack on one shoulder. He made sure he threw a last glance to Phichit, letting him know he’ll pull him in the loop later, and dashed off, leaving his friends all looking at him with bewilderment written on their faces. 

That was just too perfect. He barely got any lead on Makkachin’s disappearances and the only one he had, he couldn’t exactly have verified with accuracy before now. He rushed to the head office, and smiled when he saw his cousin looking comically out of space behind the giant information desk with a name tag on his shirt. 

Minami looked up upon hearing him, a flash of surprise crossing his face. Yuuri didn’t wait for him to get his composure back and set his hands on the desk, his expression morphing into one of impish teasing. 

“Leo told me you signed up for diving,” he said, his tone heavy with amusement. 

Minami deadpanned for a second, before huffing, making a slight movement with his head in exaggerated annoyance that had Yuuri smiling. 

“Yeah well, that sounded cool but apparently not many people thought so, so I’m stuck in here for the semester,” he complained nonchalantly, but then gave Yuuri a confident look as he pointed at his name tag. “So don’t mess with me alright, I’m an office aid.” 

His expression made Yuuri want to laugh. Minami may well have aimed to sound impressive, but it all just made him look even more adorable than usual. They’d always got along well, Yuuri playing big brother for his little cousin and Minami basking under the attention. That never really would change despite them both aging a few years. 

“Oh definitely not, that’s great!” he said as he emphasized both the last two words and his pointed look that made Minami frowned gingerly. 

“Yeah for who?” he asked as he swiveled around with some files in his hands, his tone light and oblivious to Yuuri’s scheming. 

“For me,” Yuuri exclaimed, not exactly doing the best job at containing his excitement. He circled around the desk and approached Minami, leaning toward him as Minami eyed him skeptically. “I need you to copy all of Seung-Gil’s attendance record from this past month and get them to me,” he said very seriously on the tone of confidence. 

Minami let pass a beat or two. “Do I look like James Bond to you?” 

Yuuri deadpanned. “Am I asking you to retrieve a nuclear warhead?” he asked, making a face at Minami, who rolled his eyes, “no, just copy the attendance records, it’s cake!” 

Minami huffed loudly, but was utterly unable to retort anything, and after mumbling barely audibly, he waved an annoyed nod at his older cousin, half looking away. Yuuri tilted his head down in approval with a satisfied smile. 

“Thank you!” He singsonged as he made his exit, with the sound Minami‘s grumbling behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter 4! 
> 
> Be warned that there will be talk about a rather dangerous investigation. I don't go into details, but still; also, it might appear like a very stereotypical description of gang and mafia stuff (cause I know next to nothing about how they actually work, all my knowledge comes from shows and we all know how realistic they can be). 
> 
> No Yuuri-Viktor content in this one I'm afraid, but it's a necessary build up for the rest of the story! :) Hope you'll like it anyway!

When he finally arrived at his dad’s office after classes were over, Yuuri sank down on his chair with the unpleasant feeling of being completely drained while not having accomplished anything productive.

When he heard a chuckle coming from his father’s office through the left-ajar door, he turned his head slowly and pouted at the amusement alight in his father’s glance.

“Who’s looking like hell now?”

Yuuri huffed in dismissal at the teasing and turned his head away from his father, which only made him laugh once more. He was looking much better than he did in the morning. Not that it was hard to accomplish. 

He’d probably had the chance to take a nap at some point. And a shower, his mind helpfully provided as Yuuri remembered how disheveled his dad had appeared in the kitchen that morning. He sighed and rolled his shoulders a few times, trying to remove the tension that had already built up there. He stayed silent for a little while, content to relax a bit before tackling the next cases his dad would see fit to give him. With a little luck, he’d get something interesting, especially considering how taxing his other cases seemed to be-

As realization hit him, Yuuri sat back straighter and turned to his father who had gone back to whatever he’d been doing when Yuuri arrived. The teenager got up and circled his desk before coming in his dad’s part of the office, aiming straight at the file cabinet to his dad’s right. 

“Actually dad, about this morning,” he started after opening the drawer and rummaging through it, quickly finding the right letter. He was about to finish his question before he stopped short, confused as he couldn’t find the right file. 

“Hum, dad where’s– ” he started as he looked up, his father coming into his line of sight. He was staring straight at him, a contemplative look on his face. Yuuri closed his mouth and only waited, his father’s expression telling him he’d talk soon. 

And eventually he did. “Looking for this?” he asked putting his hand on a file set in the middle of his desk. He didn’t need to actually visually confirm what file this was exactly but Yuuri’s eyes travelled down to it anyway, before he met his father’s eyes once more. They were unfathomable and his renewed excitement at remembering what his dad had agreed to this morning dimmed subtly. 

“Maybe,” he replied cautiously.

His father remained silent for what felt like hours even though Yuuri perfectly knew it would actually count in merely a handful of seconds. Unsure what to do, he closed the file cabinet and slowly went around the desk to stand in front of his dad rather than half behind him. 

His father finally let out a heavy breath, and nudged his head towards the seat neatly set up in from of the desk. Yuuri released a nearly imperceptible breath and went over the door first to close it before sitting, clasping his hands together on his lap as he waiting for his father to start. 

He’d known how reluctant his father was regarding this case but his reaction really seemed exaggerated. Or perhaps it really was just as dangerous as he’d been told. That didn’t really make his curiosity in the matter abate in the least. His dad lifted his gaze up to meet Yuuri’s, who really tried his best not to let his renewed eagerness show too much, but just like this morning he brilliantly failed.

“Yuuri, I want to make this clear: I have the right not to answer certain questions, and I don’t want you to snoop in the case without my consent, am I clear?”

“Does that mean I can if I have your consent?” Yuuri shot back on instinct, not quite deliberately dodging the question.

His father’s eyes darkened somewhat, and Yuuri refrained the impulse to flinch. Speaking without thinking again. Seeing his father staring at him with such intensity wasn’t something he was used to and it was all he could do to stop his tongue from running away with him again and he bit his lip.

“I’m serious Yuuri. Do we agree on this?”

Yuuri knew he didn’t have a choice if he really wanted to be let in on the case. The only thing he knew about it was that it had started some time ago already. He had heard his father grumbling about the “Sulliman headache” on more than one occasion. Yuuri only figured out recently that he was in fact talking about an investigation. His father had never let any detail slip up until Yuuri was briefed on the basics, the meager file now on the desk supporting his father particularly rudimentary explanation. He’d never thought about asking for much more details than that until he realized the toll it was taking on his father. All he seemed to be able to do was grasping at straws, and it was now more than obvious that this case was not a walk in the park. 

It was very intriguing, and Yuuri wasn’t anything if not curious.

He held his father’s gaze for a few seconds, and let his eyes drift sideways as he sighed.

“Yes alright, we agree,” he finally relented after he’d willed his eyes to look back up.

His father nodded his approval and put aside the file, to Yuuri’s surprise. He opened his own cabinet next to the desk and took out an enormous binder that had Yuuri’s eyes grow impossibly wide. They flickered between his father's face and the binder, which now laid open on the desk.

_“Complicated” doesn’t cover it at this point,_ Yuuri thought. As his eyes fell on the pictures, pages of texts, bills, phone records and whatnot, he realized that he’d never been close to understand how extensive the investigation was. How could he, with the previous file? On hindsight though, considering how reluctant his dad had been regarding broaching the topic, hiding the actual file away from Yuuri’s attention made more than a little sense. 

He almost wanted to laugh at his naivety. His first assumption when he figured out that the reason why his father looked more and more regularly like he’d spent months away from civilization was in fact an investigation, had been that there was no obvious trail, hence such a small file. Busy with his own investigations, it hadn’t occurred to him that maybe there was more to it. The red flag should have been raised in Yuuri’s mind when his father was so adamant not to talk about the case. If truly the meager file with merely enough circumstantial evidence to even hint at something worth investigating had been all there was to it, it wouldn’t have mattered whether Yuuri knew about it or not.

“That big hah?” he sighed. Seeing the actual gigantic binder made him grimace at how enormously he’d been mistaken.

His father looked back up at him, his face kept into a neutral expression. 

“I’ve been working on that case for more than a year now, on and off depending on what evidence came up,” his father began to explain after a few more seconds of silence. “When I first heard about it, I assumed it was a simple gang rivalry, including the usual drugs, guns and retaliations. I was more than surprised that I was asked to look into it; that’s the kind of things left to the sheriff department. Private investigator, not so much.”

Yuuri made a slight movement with the head in acquiescence. People involved in this kind of affairs rarely wanted attention onto them, and those impacted by them could rarely afford the services of a private investigator to help them, but maybe a private company or someone outside the street business had ended up involved and sought out his father’s help. 

“I was transferred the investigation by the Sheriff department itself after some time. They had only gathered up an incoherent patchwork of meager evidence, and to be honest it wasn’t much to work with,” he explained with a bitter edge to his tone that he couldn’t really hide.

Yuuri stilled suddenly, looking up at his father, disbelieving. Wait, a minute. That was weird. Why would the Sheriff department refer the case to a private investigator? 

It didn’t make one bit of sense for them to delegate a public case investigation to a private investigator. And besides, how in the world had Yuuri not heard more about this case by now if it had been in the department’s jurisdiction before? 

His dad being good at fooling him, totally possible. The department hiding anything Yuuri couldn’t access to? Impossible. Yuuri had snooped there enough times looking for information to solve his own cases, to know that keeping evidence and information protected was clearly not their forte. 

Even if it had seemed like he was defending the department to Viktor earlier, Yuuri did share the opinion that it was one of the most incompetent forces in the country, with perhaps the exception of the Sheriff himself, but that was only one man who couldn’t exactly pull all the work by himself.

That was why the revelation of the sheriff’s department involvement surprised him so much. If they had been working on the case, sniffing out the information out of there would have been easier done than spending an hour in the same room as Mr Philips. And even that, he had gotten very good at, providing he indulged into a few of his finest acidic comments of his repertoire. 

Yuuri looked at his father, a little skeptical, but he didn’t allow him more time to think through the presumed involvement of the department as he continued his explanations.

“They couldn’t handle it, so it was left up to me somehow. The county decided to close the investigation. ‘A waste of time and resources’ they said,” he mimicked, disapprobation tainting his voice. “When I went through these files, the possibility of a set up crossed my mind to be honest. Nothing quite made sense: the information was too scarce and way too coincidental. But it did have some trademarks of gang rivalries though. The little evidence I could gather, all came from the shady parts of town, records of underground dealings, and some ties with a prominent member of the Irish gang.”

“The one that was arrested a year or so ago?”

His father nodded, and Yuuri stayed silent for a handful of seconds, taking in the information but something triggered his confusion.

“Wait, a set-up? You mean the investigation would have been set-up by the gang itself?” he asked genuinely curious.

His father made an expression saying ‘why not, we never know’, and Yuuri didn’t waste time in following up on his list of questions.

“But what would they need from that? I mean do they even actually _need_ something from an open investigation? If you ask me, they’d be better off not bringing the attention of the law on their dealings. They might as well lay low, what is their aim in bringing the spotlight onto themselves?”

He allowed himself time to take a breath but that wasn’t enough for his father to interject anything. “And you mentioned something about gang rivalry, are we only talking about the Irish gang?”

His initial calm demeanor had been slipping away a little more with each question and he was now leaning on the desk and staring at the binder so intently that he might as well have been trying to print the documents on his retinas.

His father didn’t have to go through the notes to answer.

“Well, all of these questions are what makes this even more puzzling. The most obvious answer to ‘what do they have to gain out of it’ is: nothing,” he said his lips thinning together in a show of the irritation he must have been feeling, being confronted to a tangle of nonsensical facts. “We couldn’t figure out what their end game could be, especially since the evidence originally found was almost non-existent. As months went by we did manage to gather up more facts, and it became clear that it couldn’t be solely the usual gang rivalry our city often hosts.”

He propped his forearms on the desk, clasping his hands together over the binder. “My thinking is, it’s the work of one gang among a cluster of them.”

Yuuri’s face contorted into a deadpan, and he quirked an eyebrow at his father. Levelling the heavy stare at his father he said, “A cluster? Of Gangs? As in, the gangs of Hasetsu working together?”

He noticed how serious his father’s face was. There wasn’t any sign of joke there.  
His mouth dropped.

“Oh you’re serious?”

His father quirked an eyebrow, and sighed. “Like I said, complicated. “

Yuuri let out a nervous chortle. “You don’t say.”

He met his father’s eyes when he didn’t add anything, and he noticed he was studying him. Yuuri had the suspicion he was currently debating whether to continue or not. Yuuri erased any signs of surprise or nerves away from his face, and sat a little straighter. He didn’t want his father to think he couldn’t handle it. This was unusual to be sure. But far from the worst he’d heard. He had the suspicion that it was about to get there though, considering his father’s adamant request he didn’t get involved.

“I’ve thought about the ins and outs, and that’s the only half-sensical hypothesis I could come up with. If there’s several gang working together, what do you think is bound to happen at one point or another?” he asked looking at Yuuri above his glasses, inviting him to think about it.

He didn’t have to however. “Either one is going to make a mistake, or there’s gonna be an issue on which they won’t all agree, angering one party or the next.”

His father nodded his head in acquiescence. “Exactly. And if either one of these scenario occurs, you agree that there’ll be some kind of retaliation of some kind. We all know the rules of that game. But it would likely be dealt with internally, to avoid what you mentioned, bringing the spotlight onto themselves and their activities,” he said on a suggestive tone that Yuuri picked up on right away.

“And you’re saying this hasn’t been the case?” he surmised, but not sure exactly what was being referred to. He wouldn't shy away from admitting he was probably the best at keeping his ears to the ground, especially when it came to interesting investigations and he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he hadn’t been aware of any of what his father was telling him now.

As if on cue, his father shook his head slowly. “In any case, it led me to think that this might have been way more extensive than any gang rivalries the city has dealt with in the past.”

“Hence the cluster,” Yuuri mused, his gaze drifting absentmindedly to the binder. He trusted his father’s judgement, but he knew things that Yuuri himself didn’t and without anything concrete to base his own impression on, speculating over the case was a hard thing to do. 

“Okay…” he started again in a cautious tone, “who do you think they are then?”

“We haven’t identified all of them, but assuming I’m right, what we have on our hand is probably an actual network of several groups,” his father explained. “One of them probably has ties with the Triad-“

“The Chinese Mafia?” Yuuri exclaimed, open mouthed.

His father closed his eyes at the sudden high pitch exclamation.

Yuuri snapped his jaw shut. “Sorry,” he eventually said, lowering his voice.

His father sighed, but continued nonetheless. “Yes, the Chinese mafia; but I just said they might have ties with them, we don’t know whether they’re indeed in the same group or not.”

“Why do you keep saying ‘we’?” Yuuri suddenly asked again, forgetting he was interrupting again. “Are you working with someone?”

Despite the turn that their talk had taken, turning into something closer to an actual conversation than an explanation, he knew that the “we” his father kept using wasn’t referring to the two of them.

His father leveled a glance at him behind his glasses, and Yuuri saw that he was debating whether revealing that detail was compromising or not. He seemed to choose the former because he pushed back his glasses on his nose and answered faster than Yuuri had expected him to.

“I work in cooperation with the Sheriff’s department, or rather the sheriff himself.”

Ok, now he was lost. 

“I thought you said the department closed the case?”

Something on his face must have shown his confusion because his father’s lips curled in a faint smile.

“They did. But apparently the sheriff thought it deserved more time and attention. He’s the one who personally transferred the case to me. Nothing in the decision to label it as a cold case prohibited him from keeping looking into it out of his official working hours.”

Yuuri hummed appreciatively, impressed by the dedication and feeling an urge of respect in regards to the Sheriff.

“Needless to say we went way faster than they did during the official investigation in gathering evidence, but none of it allowed us to break through the mantle of the affair.”

“Evidence, like bills and phone records?” Yuuri asked nudging towards the binder. This seemed pretty extensive to him.

The comment drew another hint of a smile on his father’s face, otherwise so stern at the moment.

“There’s a reason why you, and everyone else, haven’t heard about it.” 

Yuuri stared at him, incomprehension settling slowly on his face. What in the world was he talking about?

His father sighed and leaned back in the tall chair, as if suddenly too tired to sit upright. He rubbed his forehead with his fingers and his eyes closed, while Yuuri waited more or less patiently. Actually more on the ‘less’ than ‘more’ side, but that was a detail.

“Remember what I said about the evidence being too coincidental? Well, it was at first, when I first started looking into the case. This,” he added pointing the binder in a careless, clearly annoyed gesture, that Yuuri knew not to take personally, “this is nothing.”

That had Yuuri raise an eyebrow, lips pouted into a disbelieving expression. He was about to ask how that mammoth could be nothing when his father beat him to it and all the words escaped him. 

“They were disappearances.” 

He hadn’t heard about that. He could understand not hearing about a case dealing with gangs and whatnot, but disappearances? Surely this would have been on the news? 

“People known to be part to certain groups disappeared, never to be found since. I’ll let you make out what that means yourself. When the first disappearances occurred, the sheriff’s department had no idea how to handle it. They labelled it as “gang fight” if anyone were to ask and that was the end of it. After the case ended up being officially closed, and subsequently brought to me I was at a loss from the seemingly same unexplainable cases of people vanishing into thin air.”

Yuuri shook his head, deeply frowning. 

“That doesn’t explain why no one knows about this. Disappearances? Really dad? How can this not be on the first page of all the papers?”

“Yuuri, you and I both know this city likes to discriminate between those who live on the ‘right’ side of the track and those who don’t. The reasoning doesn’t go further than ‘if it’s part of the underground business, we don’t care’. All of the disappearances were that of people we knew belonged to one gang or another.”

Yuuri felt his face relaxed a fraction in understanding, but he still winced at the explanation. Despite the argument making sense, it wasn’t a pleasant one. 

“As soon as they found out the proportions this could take, they closed it and assumed they would all be better off not looking into what looked like gang rivalries, even if it was happening right under their nose in the middle of the city.”

Yuuri quirked an eyebrow. Their dear city council…as efficient and pragmatic as ever.

“When Sheriff Leroy and I started digging into it, it became apparent that there was a cleanup being done simultaneously to the appearance of new evidence. It was as if someone was purposely trying to bring attention on their dealings while another desperately tried to keep it concealed. Leroy revealed that the case had initially been brought to their attention through an anonymous tip when he first asked my help, after the Sherriff’s department dropped it.”

Yuuri frowned. Anonymous? That was interesting. This type of call weren’t uncommon, by and large, but it was usually reserved to marital dealings or teenage idol threats. Not about a gigantic mafia network that no one had ever heard about.

Something about his father’s tone had Yuuri sitting upright.

“Wait, are you implying you haven’t discovered who the tip was from?” He asked borderline shocked.

If there was one person better than Yuuri at tracing back anonymous calls, it was the man who had taught him how to do it. He couldn’t believe this was still an ongoing process.

His father seemed to be reading his thoughts because he sadly shook his head.  
“It wasn’t for lack of trying, believe me. But that person is incredibly good at what they do.”

There was something his dad wasn’t mentioning. That Yuuri could read easily in the way he almost averted his gaze, or the way he fumbled subtly with a page of the binder. Those gestures weren’t something anyone but their family could have picked up on. It was too practiced to be noticeable by any outsiders.

Yuuri felt that it was probably safer not to ask what that was. He didn’t want to jeopardize the perfect opportunity he had of learning more about the case. Especially now that his father was finally opening up about it.

“In any case, the tip was surprisingly well informed. Given my previous assumptions, it led me to suspect it was from a member of one of the group that – if my guess is correct – had fallen in disgrace. This is very common, and it would coincide with everything I’ve learned since then.”

Yuuri stared into nothing, thinking over his father’s words. He hadn’t even finished explaining everything, and there were already many things he didn’t understand. Actually at this point, he wasn’t even sure about _what it was he wasn't understanding_. 

“Have you found out any one in particular that could lead us to the main group?” 

“I wish,” his father sighed. “But whenever we get close, either someone or something disappears.” 

Yuuri wasn’t sure what to say. It sounded directly out of the scenario of a Hollywood blockbuster. Not anything likely to happen in a small city like Hasetsu. 

“So, no evidence, no name whatsoever…” Yuuri surmised. “Then what’s all this?” He asked pointing at the binder. 

“Like I said, nothing conclusive. Dead-ends mostly; the tracks of people going AWOL. Well, there’s this name that have popped up regularly here and there,” he added with a frustrated wiggle of eyebrows. “Bogdan, but they seem more of a ghost than anything else.” 

The name rang a bell in Yuuri’s mind, but he had no idea from where he’d heard it. 

“How do you know this is even as serious as you seem to believe though? I mean maybe these disappearances were coincidences?” 

Neither of them did believe too much in coincidences but it would be careless not to consider the option. 

Yuuri made sure his tone didn’t sound accusatory or disbelieving. He trusted his father to be able to differentiate between a fluke and an actual crime. 

The same debating expression as before crossed his father’s tired features. 

“Drops of blood tend to splash in the most unforeseen places, and moving a body doesn’t change that.” 

Yuuri blinked, heart freezing for a second, and he grew immediately quiet. There wasn’t any need to elaborate; this was clear enough, and cause for serious concern. The possibility of having people disappearing, and potentially dropping dead while no one in the city was none the wiser was terrifying. 

“I want to help” he blurted out without even thinking it through. Again. 

The reaction was immediate. His father sat back upright, towering his son who was still somewhat leaning over the desk, sitting on the edge of the seat. He drilled a cold and adamant look into Yuuri, and his jaw was visibly clenched. 

To Yuuri it was clear he was containing himself. He didn’t flinch, for as soon as the words had passed through his lips, he’d realized what they were likely to trigger. He was more than beginning to understand why his father didn’t want him near the case. 

His dad wasn’t exactly used to deal with murders and Yuuri even less so. 

Somehow, the thought that proposing his help on such a case was the textbook example of suicide didn’t occur to him. He couldn’t even dwell on the thought that the news of such crimes should have entirely deter his wish to help, as it would have any sane person, and he kept his attention entirely held up by the man before him. 

“I believe I was clear Yuuri,” he said, the words clear and sharp. 

“You did, but-” 

“Don’t even think about it. I said no, you’re not helping on this, there are plenty of other cases you can take on.” 

They faced each other for long stretching seconds, tension palpable in the air. Yuuri finally relented, knowing that despite him being the more stubborn of the two, he’d never win this one. 

He sighed heavily, slumping back against the back of the chair. “Fine, I won’t help,” he relented. 

It left a bitter taste in his mouth, the urge of going to the bottom of this itching. 

“I’ll check what I can work on then,” he mumbled as he got up. He felt his father’s eyes not leaving him as he circled around the chair. He turned his head in his direction, arching his eyebrows quizzically. 

He knew that look. It was the ‘I want to trust you but I’m watching you-look.’ He was graced with it a little more than he’d wish to admit; and for once, he would concede in the privacy of his own mind that his father wasn’t entirely off beat. 

He left the office, leaving the door purposely ajar, and went on to sit at his own desk, opening the piles of files on the side of the desk. 

He said he wouldn’t _help_. 

He didn’t say he wouldn’t look into it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go! It's normal if you're confused with all the info, it's meant to be confusing but it'll clear up eventually. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go! More stuff happening here than in the previous chapter! :)  
> There are also a few lines of dialogue straight from Veronica Mars, maybe those of you who watched the show will notice them! :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Yuuri managed to not get late to school the next day, something he couldn’t help but be proud about. Considering his track record he deemed it was quite the accomplishment. 

He couldn’t afford being late for the next few days if he wanted to be able to look for both Makkachin and into the Sulliman case. Being late would mean detention, and detentions would mean being stuck in here instead of being out there. 

The first thing he did was to go to the computer lab, where he knew his cousin spent nearly every morning before class, talking about a topic or other with Leo and Guang Hong. As per usual the three of them were sitting close together in front of one of the computer, enthralled in whatever was displayed on the screen. 

Guang Hong saw him first, and smiled brightly as Yuuri approached them.

“Oh Yuuri hey!” 

The two others turned around as well, Minami not for long as he immediately ducked down, foraging in his back pack. 

Yuuri refrained from grinning at the sight, knowing what Minami was about to produce. 

“Hey,” he smiled at the younger teens instead. “What are you guys doing?” 

Leo shrugged. “Boring stuff you probably wouldn’t like,” he said with a teasing look. 

Yuuri took a mocked offended expression, quirking an eyebrow at him, which made Guang-Hong guffaw.

“Oh, is that so?” 

Leo let out a short laugh, and nudged at the screen. “It’s not much, just programming mostly.” 

“How unusual,” Yuuri answers with an impish smile. “I might require your service at some point in the next few weeks.” 

“How unusual,” Leo repeated, imitating him shamelessly, and then breaking into a genuine smile. “You know I’ll always help. You did manage to avoid my grandmother from ending up in prison over my uncle’s fraud.” 

Yuuri smiled back, remembering what he was referring to. 

Leo had come to see him a year or so ago, because like many others he’d heard he could help in situation like his. Apparently, his grandmother, with whom he was living with his little sister while both his parents worked abroad as researchers, had just been arrested for fiscal fraud. Leo was dead set on the fact that she couldn’t have done it, and he’d begged Yuuri to help, going as far as offering way too much money. Where Leo had found it, Yuuri had no idea, but knowing he was a friend of Minami, he’d refuse to take it and simply went on trying to understand what exactly could have led the sheriff’s department to take a presumably innocent old lady under custody. 

He’d manage to find the real culprit, and since then Leo had never stopped trying to help Yuuri if he made it known he needed it. 

“Thank you Leo.” 

“Hey, like I said, anytime!” he said, nudging his elbow in Yuuri’s hip playfully. 

“Yuu?”

Yuuri turned his head in the voice’s direction. Minami was holding a yellowish cardboard file, with an expectant expression. 

“Nice! Thank you Minami!” He went to grab it, and Minami eyed him a little curiously. 

“Why did you want it anyway?” He asked, eyes flickering between the file and Yuuri’s now focused expression. 

Yuuri hummed in question, finally raising his gaze. “Nothing important. Just something I wanted to check.” 

“Does that have to do with Viktor actually wanting to talk to you yesterday?” Leo chimed in. 

Guang-Hong’s head snapped around. 

“Viktor? As in Viktor Nikiforov?” he exclaimed in a piercing high-pitched voice. 

Yuuri cringed unintentionally at the noise, and looked at him in surprise. Guang-Hong’s features immediately morphed into a sheepish expression. 

He was usually very quiet and never was one for gossip. Even if Yuuri and Viktor’s history was not exactly a secret, he didn’t expect Guang-Hong to pay any interest in it whatsoever. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to butt in,” he apologized, his voice no louder than a whisper. 

Yuuri shook his head, just as he closed the file and stuck it under his arm. 

“No worries, it’s not like it was secret or anything. I think the whole courtyard saw us.” 

Guang-Hong seemed to relax at the words. 

“I really need to go now though, I’ll see you later! Thanks again Minami!” He called out, as he had already swiveled around and was halfway out of the room, purposefully ignoring Leo’s knowing look. 

Yuuri was still unsure why he felt the need to keep the reason of Viktor’s newfound civility secret, but not answering Leo’s question had been pure instinct. And even if making Guang-Hong feel uncomfortable hadn’t been his intention he was still grateful for the golden opportunity to dodge the question his reaction had provided Yuuri with. 

They’ll make their own assumptions, like the rest of the school. He had no doubt that it’d be at the center of the conversations of the worst gossipers of the school for some time, and he could only hope that his friends wouldn’t press the issue too much. 

If he could help it, he’d rather limit the number of people in the loop of what really had happened, at the very least for now. Even if Viktor’s explanation for Makka’s disappearance still sounded fishy to Yuuri, his gut was telling him to not hastily discard the possibility. And if it turned out to be correct, might as well avoid spreading the word too fast that he was looking into it. He already owed Phichit the full story, but he’d do what he could to make sure the list of person knowing what exactly was going on wouldn’t grow longer for the time being.

“Alright let’s check this,” he said to himself, opening the file as soon as he’d found an empty table outside. It was still relatively early, and the open air lunch area was deserted, but for the janitor who smiled at Yuuri when he passed by. 

Viktor had said that he was babysitting on the Monday Makka disappeared. He flipped the pages of the file quickly, knowing exactly what he was looking for. There was a large number of reasons that could prompt anyone to be absent for a day, especially as a Senior. Yuuri was proof of that since he had missed the two previous days to go to that interview in Philadelphia. So if it turned out that Viktor had been right regarding Seung-Gil absence, he would need to verify by himself why that was. 

After barely a handful of seconds his gaze fell on the right page, and skimmed through it quickly until he’d found the d-day. 

Oh, so Viktor had been right?

Seung-Gil had indeed been absent that day, and seemingly for unknown reason which meant it surely had been unplanned. They were allowed to miss a day if it was justified obviously, typically by a call to the administration the day of the absence and a doctor’s note handed in no later than a few days if the reason was illness for instance. If Seung-Gil had been sick that day, it would be annotated right there, and if it had been, say, a family trip, the school would have been notified before it even occurred. 

Knowing he’d need to return these by the end of the day, he got up and went straight to the library to make copies. It was probably futile considering he’d learnt what he needed to know already, but who knew, maybe he’d need to verify something else later. 

Even if he wasn’t sold on Viktor’s theory regarding Seung-Gil’s involvement in Makkachin’s disappearance, he’d be damned if he didn’t get to the bottom of it regardless. And until he had made sure that Seung-Gil had nothing to do with this, he’d hold onto these documents. 

“So, what are you hiding?”

Yuuri snapped his head around at the familiar voice, and saw Phichit leaning on the wall right at the entrance of the printer room, his foot propped up on it and his arms crossed.

He didn’t look upset about Yuuri’s unwillingness to share more than evasive generalities the day before, and he felt himself smiling at the thought. 

“To you, nothing,” he answered cheerfully which relaxed Phichit’s stance. He peeled himself off the wall and approached the printer. 

“What’s this?” 

He picked up one page, and cast a glance over it. Yuuri knew he didn’t have to answer before the next round of questions; Phichit would understand fast enough what page he was holding. 

“Are those attendance records?” He asked in a weird gasping sound. “How did you get-“ he stopped mid-sentence and his face morphed into an expression of understanding. He looked back to Yuuri. “Minami, right?”

Yuuri smiled. “Yup,” he said popping the ‘p’. “And before you ask, yes it’s about what we talked about yesterday.” 

“Well, I don’t know what we talked about yesterday,” he said his tone vaguely close to bitter. 

He could see that Phichit was annoyed that Yuuri wasn’t any closer to tell him more now than he had before. He was also absolutely sure that it was only because Phichit was the definition of curious, and being denied an explanation was probably nagging him badly. Purposefully postponing the moment Yuuri would spill the beans oddly amused him. 

He laughed at Phichit’s sour expectant expression. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna tell you everything,” he assured. 

Phichit pouted in a very comical expression and Yuuri had to bite his lips to stifle the chuckle that threatened to make its way through his lips.

“You said that yesterday,” he reminded with light reproach in his voice.

Yuuri hummed, and the beep of the machine signaling him that the copies were all done pulled his attention back. 

“I know I did, and I meant it. What about we hang out at your place tonight?” He added, “I’ll tell you everything then.” 

Honestly, the matter at hands really didn’t need such precautions. It wasn’t like he was planning on telling Phichit about the Sulliman case or anything. But that was the perfect excuse to spend time with his best friend – and to redeem himself from hiding this from him. Besides, the look in Phichit’s eyes at the suggestion was entirely worth it. 

“Deal, but you buy the Reese’s.”

“Oh boy,” he said rolling his eyes playfully, “fiiine!” 

***

As soon as lunch came around, Yuuri already knew where to go if he wanted to find Seung-Gil, assuming he was at school. 

Right after making the copies of the attendance records, he had duly brought it back to Minami and shamelessly asked if he could see the schedule of his suspect. The face Minami had made was impressively funny, but he had helped nonetheless. 

He needed to know the whereabouts of the other teen if he had to investigate on his potential involvement in Makkachin’s disappearance. As for now, the only thing he had in mind was to talk to him. He didn’t know Seung-Gil very well, despite having been in the same school since primary school. He was very elusive, and didn’t like to socialize much, resulting in him not having many friends.  
One thing Yuuri did know about him though, was that he was honest and forthright, and he owed it to him to at least give him the chance to answer for himself. Besides, Yuuri was particularly good at knowing if someone was bullshitting. 

When he arrived in the lab hallway, Seung-Gil was already leaving by the opposite door. 

_Damn it_.

Yuuri accelerated his pace, in order to avoid the distance between them to increase further. According to his schedule, he still had class that day, but Yuuri had been told by Minami that one of his teacher was absent and due to the urgency of the matter, they hadn’t found anyone to replace her, hence given the time to the students to pretty much do whatever they wanted. 

To Yuuri, there were two ways of looking at that particular fact: one, it would provide him with more time to talk to Seung-Gil if need be; but two, that might meant that he could potentially leave the school grounds and go wherever he wanted to. Not that Yuuri was more against following him with his car than by foot, but he did have class and yet again he couldn’t afford to miss another one. His attendance was getting a little too spotty. 

He followed Seung-Gil into the parking lot, the distance between them having shrunk considerably and if anything was obvious, it was that Seung-Gil had noticed for a while now that Yuuri was following. Not that Yuuri cared, he hadn’t planned on being discreet. 

Seung-Gil didn’t stop walking, but he turned his head as to see Yuuri from the corner of his eye, to which Yuuri replied by flashing an innocent smile, belied by the general mischievous expression on his face. 

“Are you going to follow me forever?” Seung-Gil asked calmly, but Yuuri noticed the hint of annoyance in his tone. 

“You say ‘following’, I say ‘taking a walk with a friend”, he retorted joyfully, the smile still plastered on his face. 

Seung-Gil came to an abrupt halt and shot Yuuri a look expertly balanced between suspicion and surprise. 

“We’re not friends,” he stated, eyeing Yuuri suspiciously. 

Yuuri faked shock, opening his mouth wide. “Oh, aren't we? I swore we were, you wound me.” 

As soon as the words were out, he recovered his usual calm but provocative demeanor, and stared right at Seung-Gil who couldn’t help but subtly flinch. 

“I need to ask you couple of questions.” He didn’t waste time beating around the bush. “Why were you absent on Monday?” 

A flash of shock crossed Seung-Gil’s features, quickly replaced with suspicion. “Wha-, how do you-”

“I’ve procured your attendance records and checked myself. You were absent Monday, and I just need to know why.” Yuuri cut off, making sure his tone wasn’t accusatory, quickly thinking of whether or not to say the next words. It would probably help Seung-Gil to trust him though. “Someone’s pet disappeared and I’m looking for her.” 

With any luck, Seung-Gil wouldn’t make the connection. He wasn’t one to spend more time than necessary on school ground, so hopefully he wouldn’t be privy to the gossips going around since Viktor had approached him in the middle of the patio. 

Seung-Gil’s mistrust seemed to subdue somewhat, and his posture relaxed a little. Surprising Yuuri, he answered right away, with something that shocked him even more. 

“I was going all over the city during the entire weekend, and Monday too because my pet too has disappeared.”

Yuuri automatically jerked his head back slightly at the news. Him too? Who else had lost their pet in this freaking city? 

“I’m sorry,” he started but Seung-Gil was quick to wave it off. 

“Unless you’re the one who took him, that’s not your fault,” he interrupted, offering a very small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Yuuri had never seen him smile, and the fact that he was doing it in these circumstances said a lot about the guy. 

Seung-Gil’s eyebrows knitted together a little as he tilted his head sideway, staring at Yuuri. 

“So you said you were helping whoever that person is whose animal disappeared?” 

Yuuri noted that he wasn’t interested in knowing either who the person was nor what animal it was, which made his readiness to help almost astounding. 

He nodded. “Yes, and after talking with them, I wanted to check with you if you knew anything about it.”

“Did you know my dog disappeared too? Or is it because this person thinks I’m the one responsible?” 

_Perceptive_. He smiled a little at Seung-Gil’s deduction. 

“They don’t think you’re responsible, but they have suspicions about you.” 

“Do you?”

“I don’t know yet, that’s why I’m here,” Yuuri answered truthfully. 

Adding to his previous opinion regarding Viktor’s suspicion, nothing in Seung-Gil’s behavior so far could indicate he had had any part in Makkachin’s disappearance. Quite the contrary, in fact. 

“They said they have seen you with many dogs in the past few weeks, and you were absent on the exact day on which their animal disappeared.”

Seung-Gil’s eyes fluttered closed upon realizing the insinuation, and he let out a short breathy chuckle. 

“I see. Well, I can’t really blame them. I probably would have made the same assumption.”

Yuuri was a little dumbfounded at how their conversation was progressing, but nothing of that transpired on his features. He hadn’t expected much, but the way it was now developing was very interesting. 

He kept quiet, waiting for Seung-Gil to elaborate. 

“I work with a small co-op focused on taking care of the dogs some owners don’t always have time for, including walking them,” he explained. “It’s been a little while already, but it’s only recently that I started to walk dogs every other day. I guess that person saw me one of these days. As for Monday, like I said: I was putting signs all over the city to find my dog. Couldn’t have focused on classes if I wanted to,” he added after a beat. 

His glance fell to the ground at that, and the same look that he’d seen on Viktor flashed across his face. He recovered fast enough because Yuuri didn’t have time to say anything before Seung-Gil had lifted his eyes back up, neutral mask perfectly back into place. 

“I can take you to the co-op if you want,” he suggested very seriously, “you could confirm what I just told you with my manager.” 

Yuuri was stunned. It was obvious like the nose on his face that Seung-Gil had nothing to do with Makkachin’s disappearance. Absolutely nothing in his words or his posture had hinted Yuuri on potential lies. 

“Sure, actually that could be pretty useful for my research too.” 

His decision was in no way motivated by potential remnants of doubts in regards to Seung-Gil’s alibi, but rather by the fact that the manager might know something about Makka. Hitting two birds with one stone, that will also allow him to present Viktor with concrete evidence besides Seung-Gil’s words and Yuuri’s belief in his innocence. 

Saying-Gil opened his bag and took out a small notebook from which he ripped off a page and proceeded to scribble something on it.

Yuuri’s gaze followed the movement of the pen but couldn’t yet see what he was writing. 

“Here, that’s the address, her number and mine if you need anything else,” he explained handing the note to Yuuri, and as he took another paper out of the bag he added, “Oh and, might as well give you this also.”

He gave him a last smile and swiveled around in direction of his car.

Yuuri looked down at the second paper, realizing it was one of the signs Seung-Gil had been putting over town, but Seung-Gil talked again from a few steps over. “Do you think it might be linked?”

Yuuri didn’t have to think much to know what he meant. “I don’t know that yet, but I’ll found out eventually,” he assured. 

Seung-Gil seemed thoughtful for a few moments. Yuuri simply looked at him without adding anything, having the feeling he still had something to say. 

“Could I help? Find that person’s animal? I mean there’s still the possibility the disappearances are linked right?” 

“You don’t think your dog could have run away?” Yuuri asked, ignoring the surprise Sueng-Gil’s request had elicited. 

He shook his head slowly. “Positive. He would never run away, and even if he did, he’d come back. It’s almost been a week, since last Friday.” 

Damn, a week… That wouldn’t make things any easier. 

“Ok then sure. I’ll talk about it with the other person. I’ll help you independently if they don’t want you to know who they are.”

Seung-Gil didn’t smile this time, but he didn’t look upset either. He nodded and turned away, leaving Yuuri with a phone number and an address. 

Ok, next step.

***

Yuuri knew telling Viktor anything before he’d verified with Seung-Gil’s manager was a very, very bad idea. But he really couldn’t have done it any other way. Not with Viktor following him from class to class, harassing him with questions.  
So much for discretion. If he had been hoping Seung-Gil might have ignored who it was Yuuri was helping, the quirky eyebrow and questioning look he’d received as they passed by him for the second time now, was indication enough he’d figured it out. 

Before the day was even near its end, Yuuri was just about to lose it, and he yanked Viktor into the boys bathroom. 

When he explained that Seung-Gil was probably just as innocent as Viktor was, Viktor hadn’t exactly sounded too pleased at the news and in fact, threw a fit in the bathroom, and it took all Yuuri had to refrain from slapping him.

He hadn’t budged on the fact that ‘of course Seung-Gil would say that’ and that ‘directly asking him was probably the stupidest idea Yuuri could have had’ and that ‘if it was all it took, Viktor could have done it himself’. 

That was why now, to Yuuri's oh greatest delight, they were both sitting on the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the co-op, waiting for the manager to come talk to them. 

Yuuri was slightly slumped back in the chair, calmly waiting for ‘Kathy’ to come out, observing their surroundings casually. His peace of mind was somewhat disturbed by the silver-head next to him, who seemed to have forgotten they weren’t about to be led into an interrogation for suspected murder with the Bratva: he was sitting on the edge of his seat, his leg bouncing up and down, worrying his lip and fiddling with the cloth bracelets he was wearing.

Yuuri rolled his eyes and sighed. “Seriously Viktor, relax I’ve got this.”

“I’m not paying you to worry about my hopes, I pay you to follow leads,” he shot back not even looking at Yuuri who made a face at the comment. 

“I wasn’t aware you were paying me,” he said sarcastically. 

This time Viktor turned his head and glared at him. 

“This isn’t a favor. It’s a job you know; you’ve made it clear you were only ‘helping friends’. I mean we’re not exactly exchanging friendship bracelets.”

Yuuri almost laughed at the irony of the comment. “I’ll stop braiding then.” 

He saw Viktor open his mouth, but before any words could make it out, Yuuri was already up on his feet and shaking the hand of a strong-built brunette. 

“Hi, I’m Yuuri Katsuki, a friend of Seung-Gil, and this is Viktor,” She smiled warmly at Yuuri, then to Viktor who swallowed heavily from being cut short this abruptly. “I talked to him earlier, and he told me I could come to ask you a few questions.”

Considering the honesty Seung-Gil had demonstrated in answering Yuuri’s questions, he didn’t have any issues with simply asking his manager exactly what he wanted. Well… asking under the cover of an at least half-believable excuse. He’d figured it’d be easier to receive help from Seung-Gil’s employer if he didn’t accuse him of stealing dogs. 

“We’re actually looking to maybe get a part time job, and Seung-Gil advised us to come and check out this co-op. We’re both dog lovers and we figured this was a good way to combine both in one package.”

He ignored how Viktor eyed him from the corner of his eyes, and he cursed the idiot for looking so surprised by the suggestion. She didn’t seem to notice though, since she cracked into a warm and throaty laugh. 

“I see, you boys come with me,” she said leading them next to the front desk. “I suppose you want to know the schedule and what position you could take on,” she asked them, and Yuuri nodded immediately while the idiot next to him stood with his mouth slightly agape. 

She explained everything, her glance flickering between her computer screens and the two of them, before sliding a sheet over the counter. 

“Alright so, I suppose Seung-Gil told you already, but there’re different things you could do. One of them, like him, is walking the dogs we rescue and shelter here; he’s been doing that for a couple of weeks already, but before then he simply helped around the co-op.”

“Right,” Yuuri said, pretending to closely examine the paper summarizing the co-op activities and schedules. “So walking them means, how many times a week, Seung-Gil said every other day?”

Kathy nodded with a smile. “That’s about right! But it’s pretty flexible, you could do more or less days altogether, do more out there, less here or vice versa.”

Fact 1: checked.

Yuuri felt a swell of satisfaction knowing Viktor was hearing firsthand what Yuuri had told him earlier and he turned a shit-eating grin to Viktor at that. It wasn’t exactly a revenge for the childish fit he’d thrown in the bathroom and straining Yuuri’s patience, but that was one step in the right direction.  
His expression was entirely worth it too. 

Of course there was still the very far-stretched possibility that Seung-Gil would use that as an excuse to kidnap dogs, but very frankly Yuuri couldn’t even consider believing it even for one millisecond. His intuition rarely failed him, and when it was coupled with obvious common-sense, he would hesitate even less into vouching for it. 

“He’s been coming slightly less last week though,” he continued, and Yuuri noticed her open and happy demeanor was somewhat subduing. “He might have told you, but his dog disappeared, so he spent a lot of time putting signs all over the city for him.” 

She looked genuinely sorry for him, and Yuuri, offered a compassionate smile. “Yes, it seems more common than we’d think these days,” he said off-handedly. 

Kathy nodded earnestly. “Yes, Seung-Gil’s not the first owner I hear from whose dog has disappeared in the last few weeks.”

When Yuuri frowned, it wasn’t an act and he had to refrain from side-eyeing Viktor, remembering what he’d told him the day before. He hummed thoughtfully and had to shake his head to refocus when Kathy quickly moved on. He’d definitely need to look into these dognapping thing. 

“In any case, what I can do, is give you this,” she said suddenly, handing Yuuri a few papers, and indicating different parts of the text with her fingers as she talked. “This is the potential position you could decide to take on, and those are the hourly wage. It’s not much, but we’re a co-op you’ll understand; that’s the standard schedule associated with each job, but like I said it’s flexible, so that’d be up to you boys to decide how much you’d want to work.”

Yuuri was in awe at how nice this person was, and he took all the papers with a smile. He was a little sorry over the fact that this was all an act and he felt the need to provide her with something else than a goodbye and no explanation. 

“Thank you so much! I’ll see if that works for me, I mean my schedule is already pretty packed, but I wanted to at least see what opportunities laid out there.”

She smiled with a soft understanding expression. “Of course. Well just come by later if you think it might work, or if you need anything else. Our door is always open to dog lovers,” she added with a wink that made Yuuri’s smile grow wider. 

They made their exit after profusely thanking her and as soon as they were out, Yuuri turned to Viktor, not doing anything more than staring at him with a plain look. 

Viktor immediately took on a ginger expression, gaze flickering to both sides, and then to Yuuri’s face. “What?” his tone wasn’t aggressive at all, and he sounded more lost than anything else. 

“Why did you come today?” 

Even if his tone had been soft and stripped of judgement, Viktor still winced a little. 

“I wanted to know for myself,” he said in a lamely low whisper. 

Yuuri almost pitied him. He bit his lip and expelled the air out of his lungs, evacuating the frustration Viktor’s attitude had elicited. Getting worked up over their differences will do nothing to help him finding Makkachin, and honestly at this rate he was seriously considering the threat of a frustration induced heart attack. 

“Next time, don’t act so surprised when I’m making up excuses,” he said softly almost casually, forcing himself to keep his face neutral and even, offering the hint of a smile. 

Viktor really did look like his world had just crumbled. His shoulders were hunched in and his gaze was hollow. Believing Seung-Gil had done it probably gave him the feeling that it wasn’t completely out of his control and that he had a lead to follow. Now that Yuuri had just announced that this was a dead-end, he looked lost. 

“I was so sure,” Viktor said, his voice empty and eyes dropping to the floor. 

Yuuri refrained from saying anything close to “I told you so”, having the acute intuition it would be the very definition of counter-productive. 

He stayed silent for a few (very) awkward (at least in his opinion) seconds, but then the urge of breaking the compact uneasiness becoming almost physically painful, he let out a little chuckle.

“Well the good news, is that he wants to help,” he said with a slightly forced optimistic voice that lifted Viktor’s eyes up, eyebrows knitting in confusion. 

“How is finding two dogs instead of one, good news?” Viktor blurted out. 

Yuuri tilted his head sideways and pursed his lips, knowing that if he could see himself in the mirror, he’d look exactly like his father in his best “why not” moment. 

“His dog disappeared around the same time as Makka. Nothing can tell for sure there isn’t any connection.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t believe in coincidences?” Viktor said, his tone bordering on light teasing and, seeing his face relaxing in the hint of a smile took Yuuri a little by surprise. 

“I never said I didn’t,” he countered, letting his own expression reflect Viktor’s. “What I did say, is that I’m cautious, and I tend to explore every possibilities. If this one seems at least even remotely plausible, I’ll look into it.” 

Viktor rolled his eyes, but there wasn’t any malign feeling in the gesture, so Yuuri pressed a little. 

“Can I tell him you’re ok with that? Him helping? He doesn't know who I’m helping still and I told him he wouldn’t unless you’d agreed.” 

A flash of surprise took hold on Viktor’s face, and his mouth fell agape. “Why haven’t you told him?” 

“Hum,” Yuuri eloquently said, blinking at how surprised Viktor looked. “Cause you didn’t give me any reason to believe you wanted him, or anyone for that matter, to know?” 

Viktor stared at him, almost in shock, and Yuuri felt increasingly self-conscious under the gaze. Why the hell was that surprising? He looked like he couldn’t believe his ears that Yuuri had actually kept his name out of the loop. Besides, it was standard procedure in any case, not to put in the forefront the client they were working with, and Yuuri didn’t think twice about it anymore. 

“Thank you.” 

Yuuri made sure he took the surprise off his face, but it was nonetheless there. 

“Hum… yeah… no problem.” He cursed himself over the slight stammer, and cleared his voice before continuing. “So can I tell him?”

“What? Oh yeah sure, go ahead, he barely speaks to anyone so I doubt he’ll spread the word around. I haven’t said anything to anyone.” 

Briefly wondering why Viktor didn’t want anyone to know, he opted to quickly focus on other matters. 

“Ok good then. I’ll just text him and we’ll go from there. I think we should go look at the city pound to see if they can tell us anything.” 

Viktor nodded silently, seemingly unsure of what came next. He was shifting his weight between his feet, and Yuuri decided that might be the cue for parting. 

“Alright, well I have to be somewhere soon, so I’ll see you later!” 

He didn’t give Viktor time to process his words much, as he had already swiveled around, and given the other teen a single wave with his hand. 

He nearly stopped dead in his track when Viktor seemed to have found how to use words again. “Thank you Yuuri! I’ll see you later!”

Yuuri’s heart lurched in his chest and he scowled to himself at the reaction. 

Oooook. That had been...confusing. Considering how this entire thing had started, he was almost shocked at how it was progressing.

Well, ‘progress’ more on the “Viktor/Yuuri not killing each other part” than the “finding the missing dog” part. The image of Viktor almost smiling earlier came back to the forefront of his mind, and in truth he wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

This was the first time his face hadn’t bore cynical contempt when they addressed each other, other than when he’d had his nervous meltdown in the bathroom, and the couple of moments he’d been surprised or anxious. 

It almost looked like it’d been a different person standing in front of him. He’d thank him, and listened to him, and perhaps more shocking, was that he had actually said Yuuri’s name without scorn. The last time he’d done it without any sarcastic edge to it, Yuuri couldn’t even recall. When Viktor was in the middle of a crying fit in the boy’s bathroom didn’t count. 

This time it had been genuine, and Yuuri was a little lost as to how to process it. 

So, like usual when he didn’t know the answer to something about his own feelings: he pushed it back to the back of his find, and chose the very safe and healthy option. Ignoring it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it!  
> I have no idea if the procedure for absence/attendance works like that in the US; so my apologies if I was way off!
> 
> Also, I don't like Reese's (actually not a huge fan of peanut butter at all) but one of my old roommate loves them so I made the executive decision to have Phichit and Yuuri love them too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! Pretty dynamic chapter, I believe! Enjoy!

“So you’re really gonna help him?” 

He didn’t answer right away and Phichit didn’t press. 

In hindsight, he was aware that it hadn’t taken long for him to accept to help Viktor, and in fact, the speed at which he had agreed more than surprised him, although logically it was reasonable considering it was all about Makkachin. He was the one who had found Makka for Viktor when they were kids after all. They both had spent all the years before their friendship plummeted playing together with their dogs; that wasn’t a memory he had ever wanted to erase. Or could have for that matter. 

What really had set Yuuri on edge without him realizing until now was that even if Makkachin’s name was what had called his attention, cementing that he would help, he just realized that he wouldn’t have denied Viktor regardless. His default reaction might not have been a stellar example of self-control but Yuuri knew that deep down, he probably would have helped anyway. It left a bitter taste in his mouth and he shoved it in the furthest corner of the back of his mind.

Yuuri hummed. “Yes, it’s for Makkachin just as much, if not more than for Viktor”. 

Phichit nodded, understanding what Yuuri was implying. He had heard about Viktor and Yuuri’s friendship countless times, and knew the stories as if he had been present then. He had moved into the city barely a few months before Viktor had spectacularly rejected him, the two having grown particularly close in a few months, and more so after. If not for Phichit, Yuuri would have had a much harder time getting out of his pit of misery where the difference between living and existing had disappeared. 

“But that means you’ll have to spend time with Viktor,” Phichit replied, emphasizing on the silver-head’s name. 

Yuuri sighed, aware of the implications, and sent his friend a pointed look. 

“I know that, but what am I supposed to do? I _can_ do something about it. And now that I know about it, I can’t pretend this doesn’t affect me can I?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying, but are you sure you’re fine with spending time with him as much as you’ll likely have to?”

Yuuri was a little bothered with how much Phichit was insisting. Actually not so much that he was insisting, but more because he was completely right, and was raising the questions Yuuri had carefully and conveniently pushed in the back of his mind. 

Viktor’s attitude after they had left the co-op made him vaguely wonder if spending time with him was going to be as unbearable as he’d initially thought it would. In fact, if Viktor forgone the disdainful attitude he’d adopted _in_ the co-op and opted for the one after, then it should be tolerable. At least he hoped so. The confusion arising from that conclusion was overcrowding the initial exasperation. 

“You know what?” 

Phichit hummed at the question, looking at Yuuri intently. “He was actually decent when I left him earlier.” 

Phichit lips parted, and he made a small instinctive movement forward with his head in surprise. “You were with him earlier? As in, before coming here?” 

Yuuri nodded. “Yes, I wanted to check what Seung-Gil had told me, and he insisted in coming with me. I’d rather he stay out of it as much as possible though; I mean considering how stressed out he was before we met with like the sweetest lady ever, I really don’t think he’ll handle anything more than that. I mean seriously you’d have thought he was on trial for killing the president or something with how nervous he was…” 

The face he made as he told the tale made Phichit fall back against the bed in laughter. 

“Inside the shelter,” he continued, insisting on the first word, “he’s been an ass; like Viktor-usual-level ass, but outside…” 

He stopped to allow Phichit to get his attention back on earth and on him, and his friend’s gaze lifted up to his face, his expression morphing into something of a mixture of expectant and skepticism. 

“He was actually decent out of the co-op,” he said his voice light as if he was unsure, and Phichit seemed to be unable to prevent himself from scoffing in disbelief. “No seriously, you know I wouldn’t tell you that if it wasn’t true.” 

Phichit remained silent for a few seconds, watching Yuuri closely, and it felt like he was piecing him out with his sole gaze. He always did that when he wanted to assess Yuuri’s emotional state, or what he was really thinking. Like him, Phichit was very perceptive, especially when it came to Yuuri, and he’d stopped feeling creeped out by the intensity of the gaze a long time ago. 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again,” Phichit admitted, and Yuuri immediately rolled his eyes. 

“Phichit no, honestly that won’t happen. The reason why it hurt me the way it did was because of how close we were and how unexpected it had all been. I think we can both agree I’m far less naive or gullible than I used to be, especially in regards to Viktor.” 

“Well you did agree to help without even thinking,” Phichit retorted in a little judgy voice and Yuuri stared at him in disbelief. 

“Really Phich?” 

Phichit gave him that face where the words were more vocal than if they’d been actually voiced. 

“First of all, I _did_ think. I did! I just think fast,” he argued more strongly at Phichit’s face who raised an eyebrow at the explanation. “Second, would you really have done differently? It’s Makkachin, I couldn’t just decide not to do anything just because Viktor and I got into a fight. _Five_ years ago, may I add.”

A flash of guilt at the mention of Makkachin crossed Phichit’s features but he didn’t falter. 

“It wasn’t a fight. Yuuri, I remember how you were after he shoved you on the floor, and you were crushed. You guys were even closer than you and I are right now.” At that Yuuri was about to counter-argue, but Phichit lifted his hand, effectively shutting him up. “Yes you were, stop arguing.” 

His tone clearly implied something else, but Yuuri was not as good at deciphering Phichit’s palette of tone nuances as Phichit was with Yuuri’s. In fact no one was and that Yuuri could actually decipher even half of it was close to prodigious. 

“And without any type of explanation, he destroyed all of it. You’ll excuse me if I want you to not end up in the half-dead state you’d been for the next months after that.” 

“It wasn’t months…” 

“Why are you defending this? And Him?” 

“I’m not, I just feel like you’re exaggerating, and I don’t like it. I never pretended like Viktor never hurt me, because he did,” he said, insisting on the last words. His reaction at Yurio’s request was enough to reassert that fact. “And trust me, I’m not thinking even for a second that me helping him finding the dog _I_ got for him, will change any of it.”

Phichit’s stance fell a little. Yuuri knew it was because his argument made sense, and even Phichit wasn’t crazy enough to think arguing with Yuuri when he was so dead set on being right -and effectively being right on top of it- was anything more than a brilliant waste of time. 

“In any case, Seung-Gil is probably going to help us too.” 

Phichit jumped on the diversion Yuuri offered him, and he straightened back up. “Oh yeah he lost his dog too. If I were you, I’d keep Vicchan inside.” 

Before Yuuri could answer, the front door slammed shut. 

“Oh that’s probably my mom!” Phichit casually said. 

“Phichit? You’re home?”

Phichit gave Yuuri a knowing smile. “Yes mom, I am!”

“Good good, but I’m gonna have to rush out again! The hospital has called everybody back in! The dinner’s in the fridge!”

The noise downstairs told them she probably had been loading a laundry, and they heard her footsteps stepping into the kitchen, opening the fridge. 

When she grumbled, they both looked at each other, expecting some kind of information of why exactly she -

“There is nothing in the fridge, sooooo I’m gonna leave you money to order in” she called out again. 

Yuuri bit his lip, containing his laughter, while Phichit shook his head in fond exasperation.

“Oh actually… I don’t have any money, get something and I’ll pay you back?”

Yuuri caught the laughter before it passed by his lips, stifling it with his hands, but Phichit barely even let out more than a chuckle, more than used to this kind of scenes. 

“Yes sure mom, good luck at the hospital!” 

“Thanks hon, and say hi to Yuuri for me!” she replied before closing the door. 

***

The next day, Yuuri sent a text to Seung-Gil asking him to go to the second floor bathroom to talk over what they had so far. Yuuri had to repress the urge to laugh at the perplex face Seung-Gil sported as he opened the door skittishly.

“Hey Seung-Gil, sorry for the creepy message, but I’ve come to figure that this place is actually pretty safe to talk. It’s one of the best soundproofed room of the school.”

Seung-Gil quirked an eyebrow at that, surely wondering how an accessible bathroom to all the students in their high school was anything close to ‘safe’. 

Yuuri noticed the look, and leaned between Seung-Gil and the now closed door, keeping his eyes on Seung-Gil’s face as he went for the lock. “Providing you lock, obviously,” he added with a knowing smile. 

When he turned around, Viktor was leaning against the sink counter, looking perfectly out of place in a stance that radiated uneasiness. Yuuri suspected it was over the fact that Seung-Gil knew he’d suspected him, even though he had lost his dog too. Apparently Seung-Gil noticed, because he made a few steps forward to lean on the opposite wall. 

“I don’t mind you know,” he said in his ever so calm and emotionless voice. Viktor lifted his eyes up, confusion settling on his features. “That you suspected me,” he elaborated and Viktor winced at that. “I probably would have done the same in your position and if anything, it makes me want to respect you more.” 

This time Viktor’s frown was so deep, he looked like his whole face had scrunched up. Seung-Gil shrugged. “Means you care about your dog,” he said simply like it solved the whole question. 

Yuuri noticed that Viktor’s position relaxed considerably and he couldn’t help the slight curling up of his lips at that. He really did look like a child these days. 

He clapped his hands together loudly to bring their attention back. “Ok well, now that that’s done, how about Seung-Gil you tell us everything you know so far? After, I propose we go straight to the city pound at lunchtime. You might have done it for your dog but we haven’t for Makka, so we’ll go anyway.” 

***

It turned out that Seung-Gil had visited the pound right after his Siberian husky, Yun, had gone missing, but he wasn’t reluctant to check a second time. He didn't look too hopeful though, since even after he’d given them his number and a sign with his dog picture on it, he hadn’t heard anything from them. 

An imposing man was sitting behind the front desk when the three of them came in. He didn’t look at them directly, probably typing something based on the clicking sounds emitting from his spot. He finally lifted his head when they were towering him, watching them with a bored expression. Yuuri didn’t waste time with pleasantries. 

He held out the sign he’d made for Makkachin. “Hi, we’re coming because this dog has been missing since earlier this week, Monday to be specific; any chances it came through?” 

The man stood up to take the flyer and inspected it for a handful of seconds, before handing it back to Yuuri, lips pursed and slowly shaking his head. 

“No sorry, didn’t come through,” he said, eyes flickering between the three of them. 

“Yuuri Katsuki!” a delighted exclamation rang to the teens’ left. Upon hearing his name Yuuri turned his attention to a tall and pale brunet guy wearing the navy blue shelter uniform shirt, holding a clipboard and looking at him with the hint of a smile. 

Who was this person? Yuuri thought he might look vaguely familiar, so he was probably from their school. But obviously that didn’t explain how the hell he knew him. 

“You know what Joe? This is the coolest dude on campus,” he said turning to his co-worker. 

Yuuri’s couldn’t help his lips from curling up in amused skepticism. Who the hell was this? 

“He was gonna get expelled for planting spy cameras in the teacher’s lounge but he had so much dirt they just let him off,” he continued, visibly oblivious to Yuuri’s internal puzzlement and sudden urge to cringe at the words. 

Ok, perhaps he might vaguely recall doing something along those lines, and he absolutely didn’t want to explore the topic further. Because first of all, he hadn’t been _that_ close to being expelled; and they didn’t let him off just because he had a bargaining chip, but because what he had was of public interest. Nuance. 

He pursed his lips into a thin strained smile, very aware of how the two other boys’ were staring at him like he was some sort of alien. Deciding it was probably better to cut short this conversation right there, he held out the paper to the brunet, trying to keep his face neutral. 

“You wouldn’t have happened to see this dog by any chance?” he asked instead, shooting a glance at the name tag: Hans. Did he know a Hans? 

The other’s expression quite similarly reflected that of his colleague as he perused the flyer. 

“No sorry, I didn’t. But if there’s anything coming in about it, we’ll make sure to give you a call,” he said a little too cheerfully to Yuuri’s liking, holding up the paper to illustrate his word. 

Yuuri muttered a quiet “yeah keep it”, and Hans turned around to busy himself with something else than gossiping. 

As they made their own exit, Seung-Gil discreetly leaned toward him, and Yuuri bit his lips, knowing what was coming. 

“Did you really spy on the teacher’s lounge?” 

“I have absolutely no idea what he was talking about.” 

Yuuri thanked whatever deity listening, for that neither Viktor nor Seung-Gil insisted on the matter, although he swore he felt them share a glance that he did his best to ignore. They made their way out of the shelter quickly, and Yuuri led them to the closest coffee shop.

As they took their seat, Yuuri on one side, Viktor and Seung-Gil on the other, the deafening silence passing between the two was so heavy that a graveyard would have been livelier. 

They did have their reasons to look fidgety and Yuuri wouldn’t be the one blaming them for feeling down about the disappearance of their dogs. But at this specific moment he suspected it had more to do with the fact that they’d never actually spent as much time together before. 

He quickly perused the menu, trying and failing to ignore the thick uneasiness reigning over their table, as he looked up to observe them over his glasses, his head still down. 

Fine, he got it, none of them were exactly besties, and if anyone had ever made the suggestion they’d be sitting casually in a coffee shop like that, he’d probably recommended them to the nearest mental asylum. But still. This was getting on his nerves, they weren’t three years old, couldn’t they at least pretend they could engage in normal conversation? 

“Can you two stop wiggling on your seats?” 

They both flinched, and Viktor to promptly retorted. “I’m not wiggling.” Seung-Gil eyed him a little acidly at the tone implying he wasn’t the one that was wiggling. 

“Ok then what are you doing exactly? Learning how to walk on your ass?” Yuuri bit, “stop fretting.” 

Viktor stopped moving, but not without a glare thrown Yuuri’s way, which he copiously ignored. 

“Considering they haven’t called you Seung-Gil since Yun disappeared,” he started directing his eyes to him, “we can’t solely rely on them.” 

“As much as it pained me to say, it’s been a week. What are the probabilities we find him alive at this point?” 

If that conclusion was one Yuuri had come down to in the privacy of his own mind, he was a little surprised to hear it come out of Seung-Gil’s mouth and he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry at the trembling in his voice that betrayed his calm demeanor. Viktor however, snapped his head around, and threw one of the most deadly glare Yuuri had ever seen coming from him. 

“Don’t you dare!” he spat the words out like they were venom, and if Seung-Gil hadn’t been as immersed in his own emotions, he likely would have flinched violently. 

“I’m just being realis-” he started, and was brutally interrupted by Viktor springing on his feet and towering him menacingly. 

Yuuri’s eyes widened in shock. “Don’t you even say it! Makka isn’t dead! Why would you even say something like that? Don’t you care about Yun?”

Seung-Gil snapped, and Yuuri saw how his eyes were glittering from unshed tears. But his voice had recovered his stability and when he stood up, meeting Viktor’s eyes, it was as cold and sharp as a knife. 

“Of course I care, are you insane? I care more that you seem to realize, you asshole! But what are we supposed to do, hah? They’re gone, and neither the pound nor the co-op have any idea about what the fuck happened!”

Viktor’s face was dangerously scrunching up, and both looked red from their screaming and they were standing dangerously close to each other. The whole coffee shop had quietened suddenly, and there were dozens pairs of eyes riveted to their group. Before any of them could make any move, Yuuri stood up and leaned over the small circular table, putting both of his arms on their respective chest, pushing hard to force them to take a step back. 

“Enough, both of you,” he ordered, voice low and tone acid. 

They looked like they just had stepped out of a delirium, Viktor’s eyelids fluttering and Seung-Gil’s face contorting into an expression of discomfort. 

Yuuri took up his bag and slammed it over his shoulder. “We’re leaving.” 

When none of them made any moves to obey, he snapped his fingers like a father would do to his disobeying kids. “Now!” he hissed, and this time they both did as told, following Yuuri out of the silent coffee shop.

“Stupid, idiot, borderline brain-dead, morons!” he pointedly enumerated turning to face them as soon as they were out. “In what world, no actually better: in what freaking galaxy have you seen that this,” he said pointing at them and the coffee shop, “was the best way to find your dogs?” 

Yuuri knew they definitely weren’t in any position to argue, and he knew they probably wouldn’t listen, still too caught up in their argument. Or rather in the implications of the argument. 

What Seung-Gil had said wasn’t completely void of sense even if it was a little overreaching. Yes it’d been a week, but nothing indicated that either of their dogs was dead. And before he had the proof, he wouldn't concede it. In any case, Seung-Gil’s words had been spurred solely by the pain he was experiencing, and the exhaustion of spending a week without the minimal clue. 

But regardless, Yuuri wasn’t about to tolerate rooster fights every time they had to cooperate or face a setback. Or else he’d stopped talking to them altogether until he’d found the dogs himself. 

“Get in the car, I’m bringing your sorry asses back to school.” 

In truth, he really did understand what they could be feeling. Whenever he was listing the next step to be taken or imagining the possible scenario to find their dogs, his mind was viciously making him contemplate how it would feel like if it had been Vicchan. His heart would suddenly drop like a stone in his stomach. He hated it and he would shut the thought down immediately. 

He truly hoped Seung-Gil’s speculations were from the realm of impossibilities, and even if his rational mind was fighting him on this, he was desperately avoiding anything related to the probabilities of not finding them. 

The drive back to the school was…silent, to say the least. None of the passengers really felt like talking about what had happened and making small talk was even more out of the question. 

They looked drained, both of them. Seung-Gil left them on the parking lot, since he didn’t share the building their respective next class was in. 

As they walked toward the building in the same dreadful silent, Yuuri couldn’t help but eye Viktor from the corner of his eyes, or feel the slight tug of worry in the pit of his stomach. 

Sorry for Makkachin or sorry for Viktor, at this point he wasn’t exactly sure which prevailed and it didn’t matter, but he couldn’t pretend that seeing Viktor in such a state was leaving him indifferent. 

They’d barely stepped in the building that Viktor’s recognizable phone tone rang in his pocket. 

“Hello?” 

His face lit up immediately, to Yuuri’s surprise. 

“Yes that’s her, how did you find-” he exclaimed but abruptly stopped, his face falling once again, moving the phone away from his ear and looking at it, eyes suddenly shut down. 

Yuuri frowned at the sudden change. What in the world had happened?

Before Yuuri could start forming coherent assumptions in answer to that, echoes of loud and obnoxious laughs resonated through the hallway, making them both look up in the direction. 

There was standing a group of juniors nudging each other with their elbows, snickering, and pointing them, the one in the middle being the most blatant about it, even imitating barking. 

Yuuri’s mind filled in the blanks itself, and he felt acid bubble in his stomach as anger flared up, threatening to erupt, but his attention was tugged by Viktor. 

“That’s Michel Crispino,” Viktor said, his voice sounding hollow and resigned in Yuuri’s ears. “I used to be not exactly friendly with him a few years ago after he’d accused me of wanting to date his sister. He’s been going out of his way to be a pain since then.” 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at the explanation, and was quick to walk in their direction, ignoring Viktor’s plea that it wasn’t worth it. 

“Oh it’s so worth it”, he said right before he reached the group. 

He planted himself right before a Michel that was hiding his confusion behind his smug face, and Yuuri met him with the most scathing smile he could muster. 

“You prank-called Viktor?” 

The question was welcomed with more snickering, and Michel threw a daring glance at Yuuri.  
“What if I did?”

“Well I wanna congratulate you, shake your hand”, he said quickly, presenting his hands and Michel took it uncertainly. 

Oh great mistake, the poor thing had no idea how pissed Yuuri was behind the cutting smile. 

“Congratulations, you've been named the world's biggest cockroach. This award is given in recognition of your unparalleled lack of decency and humanity, bravo, you're gonna die friendless and alone.” 

Before Michel had time to react, he’d dropped his hand, and made to leave. Michel seemed to recover, and it made Yuuri violently snapped around again as soon as he started trying to talk. 

“Hey! everybody knows you…”

“Shut up, if I want you to speak I'll wave a sausage over your nose,” he threw at his face, pointing at him. “You use Viktor again to try and convince yourself that you're not a loser, I will ruin your life, you got it?"

The small crowd that had gathered around them were making their admiration known with vocals “oohs” and he passed through them without looking back at Michel’s decomposed figure. 

He joined back Viktor, who was standing in the middle of the hallway, so dumbfounded he showed striking resemblance with a fish in its tank. 

How this idiot had come to know of Makka”s disappearance when no one else seemed to have, Yuuri didn’t know and didn’t care. Chris, Georgi and JJ had joined Viktor, looking at Yuuri in various degrees from amazement to near-blowing contained laughter. 

“What-, why-” Viktor started, and then shook his head. “That was brilliant,” he exclaimed looking at Yuuri in awe.

Yuuri was still breathing a little heavily from his outburst, but was glad that at least it had dissipated the look of desperation that had claimed Viktor’s features after the call. He definitely hadn’t meant to explode the way he did, but what happened in the coffee shop was still fresh, and his self-control had pretty much flew out the window. 

The side-look Chris threw Viktor’s way didn’t escape him, nor the enigmatic expression painted on his features. He didn’t dwell on it because JJ graced them with his usual obnoxious laugh, propping up his elbow on Viktor’s shoulder. 

“I actually agree, that was some serious shit Katsuki!” he exclaimed, looking at Yuuri up and down with a kind of pitying amusement, as if Yuuri was a small boy that had just achieved reaching the high shelf. 

Viktor’s nudged him in his side to shrug him off him in a manner that was meant playful, but Yuuri noticed the slight hint of irritation behind the gesture. 

He breathed out, and shrugged, before looking solely at Viktor. “He accuses everyone from wanting to date his sister, and rather violently at that. Can’t really blame you from being an ass to _him_ ,” he answered, as if that alone explained it all. 

Viktor beamed so brightly, that Yuuri blinked, finding himself completely taken off guard by how his face was now so alight and happy. Such a contrast from how it had looked before. 

But more than that… He’d forgotten Viktor’s smile. 

His shocked-induced-stare was broken, and they all jumped in surprise when Georgi suddenly howled at the top of his lungs, “Oh Anya! My darling Anya Bogdanova Dvornikova!” all the while he scurried off after the retreating form of Anya at the other side of the hallway. 

The little group stood frozen for a handful of seconds before Yuuri managed to have enough control over his own brain to blink several time, trying to get rid of the mixture of amazement and consternation that Georgi’s outburst elicited. 

His attention moved away from the now disappeared shadow of Georgi and back to their group when Viktor let out a nervous chuckle, face contorted into a bewildered grimace, and JJ exploded in laughter. 

“Ah the power of love! Marvelous! But not as marvelous as me and Isabella, am I right guys?” 

Yuuri grimaced over the exuberance, but as he looked away he noticed once more how Chris’s stance hadn’t much changed over the whole ordeal. He repressed the puzzled sigh that threatened from escaping. 

He hated how Chris eyed _him_ the same way he had Viktor right before Georgi howled like a madman, and Yuuri decided right there and then that might be his cue to leave. 

“I really need to go now though,” he said, thumbing behind his shoulder in illustration. 

“Thank you for that,” Viktor said gratefully, head bowing slightly in Yuuri’s direction before he could leave. 

Yuuri waved it off, but was incapable of answering any more than by a non-committal, nonsensical monosyllable interjection. He was still seriously pissed about Michel’s attitude and then JJ’s condescendence, but Viktor’s reaction subdued it somewhat. And more than anything, what he wanted to escape now was the piercing gaze Chris was drilling into him. 

He honestly didn’t have any wish to analyze what it meant, although his rational mind had already caught up and provided a potential reason but he chose to ignore it. Again. Or at least put it off to later. 

He turned his back to them slowly, but hastened his pace soon enough, feeling the urge of escaping the silent scrutiny. 

“Yuuri!” 

He halted, and turned his head in time to see Phichit running up to him with a beatific smile. 

“That was amazing!” he squealed, wrapping his arm around Yuuri’s neck and his expression pierced through Yuuri’s mask, making him chuckle lightly. 

“He deserved it,” he argued, to Phichit’s amusement. 

“I take it there isn’t any progress with Makka?” he finally added, his voice losing its previous volume.

Yuuri shook his head, face suddenly closing off which Phichit obviously picked up on. Phichit hummed in musing, probably unsure of what exactly he could say that would be useful. 

“Do you have any other lead?” he finally settled on. 

“Not really. In the best case scenario, I should allow a couple of days to the pound to call me back or something, but in Seung-Gil’s case it’s been a week already. The chances for his dog to turn up now have slimmed, and he looks like he’s ready to give up.”

Phichit gasped at that, releasing Yuuri to look at him seriously. “Oh no, seriously?” 

His expression looked pained, and Yuuri wholeheartedly shared his feelings. 

“They both almost had a fight after visiting the pound,” he confessed, knowing he didn’t need to specify who ‘both’ stood for. “Seung-Gil seems to have resigned himself to the possibility of not finding his dog, but Viktor obviously is still clinging to the hope he’ll see Makka soon. I can’t blame any of them, and I don’t want to give up.”

Phichit raised an eyebrow in a genuine question, and Yuuri let out a breathy chuckle, rolling his eyes. 

“You know as well as I do that I won’t. But at this point, I’m just a little at a loss as to what I’m supposed to do for them. I’ll figure something out for the dogs, I’m actually surprisingly not too worried about that, but Seung-Gil and Viktor really do look like hell. And remember that I live with a dad who thinks removing himself from civilization is a normal way to approach investigations, so that’s saying something” he added, leveling an amused exasperated glaze. 

“Hum true,” Phichit laughed as they made their way down the hallway. “By the way, you’re still coming to the gym with me right?” 

Yuuri didn’t miss the warning lacing every syllable of the words, and even if hearing such a threat from someone as petite as Phichit could have easily been funny, Yuuri knew full well he could kick his ass easily. It didn’t make refraining from smiling too broadly any easier though. 

“I know you said you didn’t want to play lacrosse anymore, but you did promise you’d come to work out with me for gym days!”

“When have I ever back tracked on a promise?” he said winking. “The scholarship would have been nice to help out through college, but I just couldn’t handle everything at once anymore…”

Phichit let out a deflated sighed. “Tell me about it. I like Lacrosse too much to quit, but even if I didn’t, I really can’t afford not getting that scholarship. I’m already stressing over the house bills, my mom’s salary isn’t enough every months, it’s getting painfully obvious I’ll need all the help I can get.” 

He breathed out sharply. “I need to go talk to coach Celestino about it actually, I’ll see you later! Oh and keep me updated on this whole thing, I can help if you need me too!” 

Yuuri smiled as Phichit had already went down the hallway scampering in direction of the stairs going down to the gym. 

***

After classes and practice were over, Yuuri was exhausted. His mind had narrowed to a one-track thought process: ‘how to get to my bed faster?’

Accompanying Seung-Gil and Viktor at the pound, but mostly the aftermath of it, had been emotionally draining. Yuuri realized that he cared a little bit more than he’d realized initially, and for some reason, it didn’t sit well with him. He knew he’d cared for the dogs obviously, but he was realizing now that he cared for their owners more than he had initially thought he would. 

He hadn’t had any ill feelings against Seung-Gil before this whole ordeal had started, and even in the short time they’d spent together since it’d began, Yuuri could already tell he was a good person. 

As for Viktor…

Well that was a different matter, and in truth he wasn’t exactly sure what to think about the whole thing. The negative image he had of Viktor had been so ingrained in the deeper layers of his subconscious that being given clues clashing with this representation was giving him a headache. Everything from the crying breakdown in the bathroom to how he’d smiled after Yuuri helped with Michel had been unexpected. He didn’t know what to make of it, and beyond the overwhelming blank confusion, nothing was as clear-cut anymore. 

True, Viktor had every interest in earning Yuuri’s good side if he wanted him to help with the investigation. Yuuri was sure Viktor already figured out that even if he didn’t make any efforts towards him, Yuuri would help anyway; but on the flip side none of Viktor’s action so far seemed to have been dictated to reach that particular goal. He’d acted and reacted to everything with the same spontaneity he would to everything, and despite Yuuri’s effort to turn around the last few days over and over in his head, nothing was indicating that it was calculated. 

Perhaps that was making it even more complicated. 

He groaned under his breath. He was probably overthinking it. He simply wanted to go home, and take the longest nap he could. 

He made to hasten his pace to get to his car, when his stomach found the time appropriate to remind him of another need he should satisfy first. 

Oh true. He hadn’t had time to get lunch after the whole incident in the coffee shop, and then Michel happened. And then it just slipped out of his mind. 

His steps came to a brutal halt when he saw a form half curled in on itself next to his car. His blood ran cold, and he felt a nagging feeling tying his insides together, twisting them as his mind screamed at him the reason for it. 

He recognized Seung-Gil barely a second after his eyes had acknowledged the form, and his brain had caught up with the image. He couldn’t do anything but stand there, looking how Seung-Gil, hearing him approaching, raised his head to meet his eyes. Yuuri had never seen anyone this distraught, not even Viktor earlier, gaze half-dead and half radiating with intense pain. 

He didn’t have to guess the reason as to why he was there. As to why he was leaning on Yuuri’s car, his phone so tightly held that his knuckles were white. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, glittering with the remnants of tears. 

Even though his heart suddenly felt infinitely heavier, beating with painful force in his chest, he forced his breathing down, and approached Seung-Gil slowly. The lump in his throat was thrusting at every swallowing, and he didn’t trust himself to talk, especially when as he approached a wave of fresh tears seemed to break through the self-imposed dam behind Seung-Gil’s eyes. He let out a sob, barely contained, as the tears rolled on his cheeks. 

So Yuuri did the only thing that came through his mind. He sat down on the car next to him, close enough so that their shoulders would touch, but far enough as to respect Seung-Gil’s space. He made sure to keep an eye on him, silently checking if he needed anything while Seung-Gil finally allowed himself to cry in front of Yuuri. 

When it was clear he wouldn’t be able to get back home on his own, Yuuri led him to the passenger seat to drive him back himself. Even if he had managed to calm down, Yuuri wouldn’t have let him drive back alone. Not like this, and not after the news he knew he’d received. 

When he came home that day, he didn’t register how his grandmother greeted him, or how his grandfather noticed something was off. He didn’t answer when his mother came to check on him later, leaving the door closed and allowing silence to respond. 

He stayed on his bed, staring at the ceiling and his jaw clenched in anger. 

He won’t let Makka end up like this too. 

Or Viktor, his mind added before he finally allowed himself to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry... hope you liked reading the chapter anyway...
> 
> For info, many scenes were heavily inspired by the episode of VM I mentioned, and since I wrote that chapter back when I was watching Teen Wolf, the scene with Phichit's mom is straight from that, because why not? 
> 
> Oh and according to this [ website](https://thedoggypedia.com/korean-dog-names/), "Yun" can mean soft in Korean.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter 7! Happy reading! :)

The next morning, Yuuri felt a little groggy, his head aching from the restless sleep he was emerging from. 

After dropping Seung-Gil off the night before, he hadn’t been able to do anything but pacing relentlessly in his room, before turning in his bed for hours, exhausted but unable to fall asleep. The endless twirling of his thoughts, thinking of scenarios, possibilities and probabilities had kept him awake for most of the night. Despite it being Saturday, he had the vague conviction that his staying in bed longer wouldn’t be of much use. 

The perfect excuse came trotting inside his room, and he felt himself soften. The familiar scratching of small paws on the wooden floor led him to turn his head to his happily panting Vicchan, successfully bringing a small smile on his lips. 

Before he knew it, he was outside with Vicchan on his leash, walking along the beach with, for sole company, the loud and recognizable cheeping of the seagulls and a couple of early risers, running or walking their dogs. He’d realized how early it was only after he’d reached the beach, upon taking in the sight of the deserted but already basked in sunlight sand. 

As he walked slowly with Vicchan leading the way, the small poodle occasionally jumping in the ocean and happily splashing water around, he started to feel himself calm down. The atmosphere was soft and simple, the warming sun reflecting on the sea, a small wind caressing his skin, and the lulling of the birds all powerful enough to give himself the clarity he needed to process the events of the day before. 

He hadn’t expected it to go this fast. Seeing Seung-Gil in such a state, merely a couple of hours after he’d told Phichit that he wouldn’t give up and felt confident about it had been a painful blow in his gut that he could still feel even now. He hated how carelessly he’d said that, especially now that he knew how far from the truth he was.

Objectively, he was perfectly aware that he did everything he could in regards to Seung-Gil’s dog. He had disappeared for already six days prior when he’d heard about it, and it was likely that the dice had already been cast. Seung-Gil had barely managed to choke out a few words before he left the car. The pound had called. It was already too late when Yun had been found by the side of the highway. There was nothing Yuuri could have done. That didn’t exactly make him feel better about it though. 

After a little while of playing with Vicchan, he decided to turn back to their house, despite the poodle tugging on the leash and barking over the lack of freedom he was accustomed to. Yuuri’s eyes fell down on the little dog, and realized that he had unconsciously kept him at close range, not even thinking about removing the leash to allow him to play more freely like he usually did. He sighed, and eyed his dog with an apologetic expression. 

“I’m sorry Vicchan, I’d rather not take any chances.” 

The likelihood of the poodle to understand even a single word was just as high as him starting to suddenly speak, but perhaps the soft tone would calm him somehow. 

As they walked back slowly, they passed in front of one of the numerous billboards set along the beach, and he came abruptly to a halt. 

Vicchan and he walked by here almost every day and it used to be covered with band flyers and surfboards for sale. Now almost every inch of space was covered with lost dog’s notices. 

He reached out, and he uncovered several layers of notices each promising more or less high rewards. He frowned, realizing with a jolt that he still had not looked into that. 

As he took stock of all the flyers, he noticed that the disappearances dated back several weeks and Yuuri grimaced, unraveling more and more notices. How in the world had he not heard anyone talk about it? And how had Yuuri not noticed?

That was puzzling, to say the least. Passing his hand through the loop of the leash to prevent Vicchan from suddenly running off if anything pulled his attention away, he started removing the signs quickly, keen on finding out what exactly this whole mess was. 

***

Yuuri closed the door before crouching next to his dog, unclipping the harness strapping the small poodle. 

“Off you go Vicchan,” he said gently, as he set the leash on one of the hook next to the door. 

He stared at his dog skidding away in the hallway and felt a pang of sadness stirring in his chest thinking about Yun and how utterly devastated Seung-Gil had looked. His thoughts drifted to Makkachin, and to how almost a week had passed since she disappeared. Less time than for Yun. But he couldn’t help but feeling like he was running out of time. He let out a slow breath, before looking down on the papers he’d taken off the board earlier. 

Could Viktor’s seemingly fantasist idea, in fact be more grounded in reality than he’d previously considered? It was a big city, but not _that_ big. It seemed odd to have such a sudden wave of dog disappearing as such. 

But then again, there were still cases like Yun. Accidents happened. More often than he wished for sure, but they still did. And even if Yuuri truly hoped that Makka would end up coming back fine and unscathed, it would be idiotic to not consider the potential alternatives. 

He startled when he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket, almost dropping the papers as he was tugged out of his musings. He retrieved it, struggling a little and growling out in frustration as the device wouldn’t come out of the too tight pocket. He hated his jeans after being washed, they always became too stiff. 

He briefly frowned upon seeing the caller ID. “Mom?” 

“Ah Yuu-chan, thank god, I thought you were still sleeping!” he heard his mother rush out the words, and sounding as though she had just come out of a marathon. 

He waited for her to continue, as she was obviously not done. “Would you mind coming in and help today? We have a rush of guests that we didn’t expect. I’ve asked Ayame-chan and Sawada-san to come help out, but they can only arrive for the afternoon shift. Minami is working double pace, but even that isn’t enough, and since your sister isn’t coming this week-end I—“

“Mom, don’t worry, of course I’ll come help out. I’ll be there in two minutes, can Minami take out a uniform for me?”

“Thank you Yuu-chan! Yes he’s already on it,” she quickly said and Yuuri could almost hear the smile in her voice, as he pictured his cousin already rushing to take care of the request. 

After he hung up, he looked at the papers again, grimacing a little about the fact that he wouldn’t be able to take care of it now. He worried about Makka, but he needed time to be able to think about the best course of action. 

He breathed out resolutely and quickly made his way to his room to tuck the papers in a folder. 

He had barely passed the threshold of the service door that Minami crashed into him. His eyes went wide and he let all the air out of his lungs under the force of the impact, while his cousin didn’t seem bothered at all as he started ranting. 

“Hi Yuu! Here’s the uniform. It might be a little big cause anything in your size was either taken or dirty so there was only this one left. But hopefully it’ll fit ok. I don’t mean that I think you need to wear a bigger size of clothes, of course you don’t! It’s just that by tying the elastic a little tighter it should be alright-”

“Wowow Minami calm down!” Yuuri exclaimed when he finally managed to come out of his temporary haze. “How much coffee did you drink?”

“Oh really not that many,” he quickly retorted waving off Yuuri’s growing concern for his cousin’s health. He looked as if he’d drunk at least twelve cups with how jittery he was. 

“It’s just so busy today! I haven’t even had a second since I arrived, and that was two hours and a half ago! I was supposed to take care of cleaning the onsen you know? But then obaachan said that there was an enormous flow of guests! Can you believe it? It wasn’t even planned, they all just came in all at once! Or was it one after the other? I can’t remember actually… wait that’s not the point! I had a point! What was my point?”

Yuuri could only stare at who he thought was his cousin a few minutes ago, but now clearly seemed like an over-caffeinated mess. His pupils were a little blown and he was almost bouncing on the spot. Granted, Minami was bouncing more than half the time, but this was twice the usual level of bouncing. He was looking into nothing, a hand on his chin and brows furrowed as he tried to remember where he left off. 

“It’s ok Minami, don’t worry I get it,” he said gently, his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “So, I’ll take that,” he said as he took the uniform from his cousin, “and I’ll join you as soon as I’m changed.”

Minami’s face broke into a huge smile and excitedly nodded, and then swiveled around so fast he almost fell in the wall. 

Yuuri deeply sighed, looking at the door behind which Minami had just disappeared. At least it seemed like the day would be a good distraction from everything else he had to think about. 

He quickly changed and stored everything in one of the lockers in the rest room. He was about to lock the metal door, but he stop mid movement as his phone chimed alight. He felt himself deflate upon seeing the name that appeared on his phone. 

Yuuri considered answering, but then decided against it, opting to turn the device on silent and putting it resolutely back in his bag. Viktor didn’t know about Yun, and he really didn’t want to have to deal with another crying fit when he wasn’t over his own turmoil. And besides, if he could hold off making Viktor look even more miserable than he already was, he was keen on trying. 

He didn’t really have the time to dwell on the matter any longer though, because he almost jumped out of his skin again when the door slammed open. 

He let out a shuddered breath and turned toward the door, very set on glaring at whoever thought this was an appropriate manner to open a door. 

“Ah Yuuchan arigatoune!” 

Never mind. Suddenly glaring seemed like the least appropriate thing to do. He smiled at his mother, who had already made her way toward the table at the other side of the room. 

“No worries mom, just tell me what’s to be done.”

“I would tell you to ask Minami, but considering he almost finished two coffee pots on his own I doubt he’ll be able to stay focused more than half a second,” she mused as she retrieved a bunch of documents. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s efficient enough to attend the guests in the banquet room, I’m not complaining. But I dearly hope he calms down before the day is over, or I’ll hear from Kanako!”

Yuuri smiled at the mention of his aunt, more than able to picture her debating whether she should save her energy for the tempest of a son she would get back or lash out at her older sister in despair.

“I’ll just ask Jiichan then, if that’s ok. Minami mentioned, or tried to at least, that he was initially supposed to help out in the baths but that you had to ask him to help out with the guests. Unless you need me elsewhere?”

“No that’s good! If he thinks he can handle it, he’ll tell you,” she replied with her usual gentle smile on her lips. She patted his cheek affectionately. “Thanks again Yuuchan.”

He hummed, shaking his head to say there really was no need to thank him. It had been a while since the last time he had spent a day helping around the onsen, and he thought that it would be a nice change from his usual work. 

***

Well, he’d wanted change. He had it. 

Yuuri was half panting, half groaning, and wholeheartedly pouting over how hard scrubbing the terrace outside the bath was. Because of the inflow of guests, they had to open one of the baths that was more often than not left unattended. And obviously, considering there was already enough work on a regular basis as it was, they couldn’t afford cleaning baths they didn’t need more than they absolutely needed to. 

Well. It was a dumb decision. At least in Yuuri’s currently-childish-mode-produced opinion, if the ache in his arms and back vocally demonstrated by the umpteenth mumbled curse word was anything to go by. 

He heard the glass door open behind him, not needing to look back when he heard the incomer speak. 

“Not too hard Yuuchan?”

He chuckled dryly. “No of course not Jiichan.” 

“I knew you could do it, thank you son.”

To be sure, Yuuri was already sick of this task. In fact he’d been sick of this three minutes in. But when his grandfather said things like that with a fond awe in his voice, he really couldn’t help but allowing a small smile claiming his lips just as his annoyance melted away. 

He supposed he could in fact do it, if it was making his grandfather this happy. Besides, he was almost done and should be going inside to help with the laundry next. Another tedious task, but it wouldn’t be as straining as this.

Nothing had been done in this section of the onsen since the series of storms of the last winter. It had drenched the stones of the terrace, and allowed weed to grow between the cracks. The majority of the now immaculate stones had turned into a moldy green that he had spent the last few hours trying to remove. 

He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his wrist on his forehead as he looked over his work, a satisfied smile teasing his lips. He picked up the bucket he had used to transport the clear water and soap to clean up the tiles, and brought it back to the cleaning storage, emptying the now dirty waters in the drain. 

He threw a glance behind his shoulder to inspect the tiles one last time. He wanted to make sure he hadn’t left soapy water to avoid the next person coming in to fall. He pursed his lips for a second and then decided to rinse the tiles one more time for his own peace of mind.   
He turned toward one of their sprayer hose, picking up a squeegee and carried them to the side of the pool. Making sure his back was to the pool to avoid the soapy water to fall into the bath that Minami had the time to clean that morning, he sprayed the terrace thoroughly, before using the squeegee to push the water towards the drain. 

Once he was satisfied, he brought everything back to the storage and proceeded to go back inside where he found his grand-father checking the bath’s temperature. His face split in a wide smile that had Yuuri returning it. 

“Ah thank you Yuu-chan! With Morikawa-kun being sick, I’m afraid we wouldn’t have been able to open up this part of the onsen,” he explained with a small frowned that was quickly soothed away. “You were a big help.”

Yuuri almost felt bad for complaining earlier, but as he had only been complaining about how strenuous the task was and not so much about helping in general, he quickly shoved the momentary embarrassment away. 

“I think I’m due to go help out with the laundry now,” he said and gently stroke his grand-father’s arm. “I’ll see you later?”

“Sure thing Yuu-chan, see you later!”

When he arrived in the large laundry room, Minami was already there, and the effect of all the caffeine seemed to have subdued somewhat. He lifted his head upon hearing Yuuri enter, and smiled in greeting. Yuuri wondered if there was a time where Minami didn’t smile. Not that he was complaining, but it struck him as odd that he wondered something so random. 

“How has it been?” Yuuri asked as he approached the central counter of the laundry room, where a large rectangular wicker basket was set. There was a thin linen protection covering the inside of the basket to avoid any wicker straw to damage the cloths. Minami was folding clean sheets, still warm and wafting the characteristic fresh smell of having dried by the spring breeze and warm sun. 

“Good,” his cousin replied as Yuuri sat down across from him on the high stool. He noticed how he didn’t sound jittery anymore. “Every guests has been given a room, and those unlucky enough to arrive after everything was booked, we referred to the surrounding b&b and hotel we sometimes work with.”

Yuuri nodded, knowing what he was referring to. He looked around briefly and slid down the stool to grab another sheet from another basket, resting next to the table. 

“Sorry if I came out strong earlier, I hadn’t realized how much coffee I had drunk until your mom reminded me after I told her about seeing you coming in.”

“No worries,” Yuuri waved off, shrugging and a teasing smile grew on his features. “Besides, I’m used to it.”

“Yeah I suppose- hey!” 

Yuuri chuckled wholeheartedly at the indignant exclamation. “I’m joking Minami-kun,” he soothed, purposely making use of the affectionate honorific he rarely employed anymore. “It’s fine, I was just not expecting a welcome this extravagant”. 

Minami pouted for barely a second, before his jovial attitude came back on the forefront. “Anyway, you helped out jiichan right? Did it go alright?”

Yuuri hummed, lips pursed in ascent. “Was harder than I remembered to be honest, and if I can avoid it in the future I definitely will, but there wasn’t anyone else to do it. But you did clean the pool before I came in, so I’m thankful for that.” 

“There were too many guests coming in, your mom needed help to serve breakfast and help the new patrons check in their rooms. We were a little understaffed this morning.”

“Yeah I know, that’s why she called. I don’t mind helping from time to time, it’s totally fine. I’ll be feeling it for the rest of the week-end though, I forgot how hard it was to scrub those tiles.”

His lighthearted complaints brought a chuckle out of his cousin, but then he grew quiet again.   
Yuuri frowned, coaxing his head to the side slightly as he lifted his gaze to observe his cousin’s expression. His lips were pursed, and brows frowned, as if he was debating whether to open up about something. 

It wasn’t like him to filter through whatever it was he wanted to say, and Yuuri grew curious. He was perceptive enough to notice how awkward that new silence was, even if Minami seemed unaware of it.

“What are you afraid to say?”

Mimani started in surprise as his head snapped up and his eyes had grown wide. He gulped, his gaze escaping Yuuri’s. Yuuri waited, unwilling to press too much, especially when Minami looked this uncomfortable.

The last time Yuuri had seen him like that, Minami was trying to muster the courage to tell his mother about that antique vase he may or may not have unintentionally shattered on the floor.  
Realization dawned on him as he kept observing his cousin. He’d starting fidgeting with the sheet he was supposed to fold, and he wasn’t being subtle either. Yuuri had the growing impression whatever Minami was refraining to say had a lot to do with a certain silver-head idiot. 

“Yuuri,” he started, and as he lifted his head, stopped again upon seeing Yuuri was watching him. He took a breath and cautiously looked up again. “I was wondering…”

“You want to ask about Viktor don’t you?”

Minami blinked several times, probably wondering how in the world Yuuri had guessed. 

Yuuri sighed lightly. “There’s really not much to know, like I said. I’m just gonna help him find something.”

“No yeah I get that,” Minami quickly said, barely waiting until Yuuri had finished talking. “I just… I wanted to know if you were ok.”

Yuuri startled, eyes widening in surprise for a second. Had he heard right? Why was Minami worried about him? 

“Why would you ask that?” he ended up saying after a few seconds of trying to process Minami’s question, which didn’t really make sense to him, and he opted to try and go out with a joke as he said with a smile “Do I look sick or something?”

It didn’t have the effect he’d hoped though, because Minami’s look hardened, even if it was for barely a second. Yuuri felt thrown off balance when his eyes held a worried expression. He looked…sad? Why did he look sad? 

“Minami what’s wrong?” he asked, leaning slightly over the table as to shorten the distance separating them. He reached to touch Minami’s forearm, and even if the younger teen tensed ever so slightly, he didn’t squirm. It didn’t soothe Yuuri though, who was really starting to feel as if he was missing something. 

Minami huffed a little, as if to let go of his last doubt about speaking his mind. “I just… I remember what happened with Viktor before. I was there you know. I was in the hallway when he shoved you on the ground.”

He had rushed all the words out, and took a breath to recompose himself. But it wasn’t enough for Yuuri to wave off his shock at hearing this coming from his cousin, or the chill that suddenly surrounded him. Minami had been what, nine or ten then that happened, surely that was too young to understand right? But apparently not, because there he was speaking again. 

“You looked like…like… I don’t even know, just as if everything had crumbled around you. And even the months of crying were nothing compared to the look you had on your face that day. I just don’t understand how you could forgive him. I thought you hadn’t, I mean it’s obvious how the two of you avoid each other, and bicker, and throw insults whenever you pass each other in the hallway, but you’re _helping_ him? Really?”

Yuuri closed his mouth once he realized it had gaped open, and was looking at Minami indulgently. He could see why Minami would say and think that. He did receive a similar talk from Phichit after all. 

“I haven’t forgiven him,” he said quietly. 

Minami withdrew his arm a bit more harshly than Yuuri expected him too, but he didn’t flinch. 

“Then why?” he exclaimed. “I know that’s what you do, helping people; but why are you helping _him_?”

“Minami, listen I-“

“I don’t want to lose you again.”

It effectively shut Yuuri up. His head jerked forward a little just as his eyes grew wide, starting to get a little lost over the whole thing. 

“What… What do you mean by ‘losing me again’? You’ve never lost me, I was always here!”

“No you weren’t!”

Ok, now he was _completely_ lost. He’d been hurt yes, but he hadn’t left. Not entirely anyway. Sure he had missed a few days of classes or so, but Minami had seen him. He was family, he knew what was going on. 

“It was like you were fading,” he was trying to explain, but it was obvious he was struggling with finding the right way to describe it. 

And Yuuri was helpless. The only thing he could do was stare at him, hearing him out even if he wished he could wipe out that pained and lost expression from his little cousin’s face. 

“You were crying in your room every single time I was coming by for months. We weren’t playing anymore, we weren’t talking, I couldn’t even see you for more than five minutes before you started crying. Or getting lost in your thoughts. I think that was the worst part. At least when you were crying, you were exteriorizing it. And then for months you looked like a damn zombie!”

Yuuri quirked an eyebrow at that. “Did you talk to Phichit or something-“

“I don’t have to talk to Phichit to know what happened Yuuri!” he snapped, finally meeting Yuuri’s eyes again. 

‘Yuuri’, that was new. Since when was Minami using his full name? He would always call him ‘Yuu’.

“Phichit helped me understand back then. He and Mari… But Yuuri, you used to be always there, and suddenly, you disappeared. I know that’s because you were hurt, and I would have done everything I could to make that hurt disappear…But you didn’t just lose a friend that day Yuu,” and Yuuri’s heart clenched when he saw how his cousin’s eyes were welled with tears and heard his voice crack ever so subtly. “I lost my big cousin… my big brother.”

Yuuri try to swallow the lump in his throat that had formed there somewhere along hearing Minami’s words. He shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry Minami.”

Minami shrugged and rubbed his eyes to try and get rid of the remnants of tears that wanted to spill. Yuuri got up and circled the table to engulf him in a big hug. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dismiss your feelings like that, I hadn’t realized that it affected you that way.”

He heard him sniff, and felt how he shrugged again. Yuuri released him from his hug as he heard him speak again. “It took a few years for you to start really being you again, being better. I know things will never really turn back to normal, but I’m finally feeling like we’re close again, and I don’t want this to just drive us apart again.”

He said the last words with a strained but nonetheless genuine smile, and Yuuri thought this might be the saddest expression he’d ever seen on Minami. He, who was always so bubbly, excited about anything and everything. So Yuuri did the only thing he could think of, and snaked his arms around Minami’s head, and held him close against him, just like he used to when they were little. 

***

Yuuri offered to help out some more after Sawada and Ayame arrived, but his mother waved him off, prompting him to rest. He almost laughed at that suggestion considering she was the type to never rest. 

As soon as Yuuri closed the front door after he went back home, he felt completely restless and couldn’t settle down even for one minute. When his mind wouldn’t stop reeling over an endless list of hypothesis and theories, there were really only two things that could help. One was going to Minako and practice ballet with (or without) her until he was too exhausted to think. She wasn’t in town that week-end though, so that option was off the table since he hadn’t warned her to leave him the spare key. The next best thing – arguably the best in certain circumstances, and he deemed these were such circumstances – was going to the office and working on cases. It would narrow down his focus on the task at hand and allowed him to not get overwhelmed. 

Helping out in the onsen had helped in a way, but his conversation with Minami had agitated him, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about the investigation. Especially since the reason for his feeling so restless was precisely because he wanted to work on trying to find Makkachin, it was just as well that he had the afternoon off.

He quickly put a sandwich together, and gathered up the folder he had stashed the notices in, along with his laptop before grabbing his car keys. 

As always it took barely fifteen minutes to get there, and he arrived just as a new client was coming out. Yuuri smiled as he allowed the man to leave and went in in his wake. 

“Hi dad,” he waved to his father when he passed by the opened door of the office. 

“Hi Yuu, ‘sup?

Yuuri stopped in his track, turning his head to his father, deadpanning. 

“I am not acknowledging that,” he blurted out with a judgmental tone. 

His father chuckled lightly, which brought life back to Yuuri’s features. He couldn’t help the quick wiggling of eyebrow as he realized something rather new that week: his father was in a good mood. Yuuri refrained from the impish smile fighting to get a hold of his lips, which he knew would be a dead giveaway of his intention to dig out whatever it was his father was happy about. Especially since Yuuri had the rather strong feeling that it had everything to with a certain case he was dying to know more about. 

His father put his pen down, to look at him with a warm smile.   
“I didn’t see you since yesterday. Where were you this morning? 

“I helped out at the onsen, it was unusually crowded.”

His father hummed in understanding. “And how was school yesterday?” 

Yuuri shrugged non-committally, mimicking an indifferent expression. “Oh you know, mean kids, indifferent teachers, crumbling infrastructures.” 

“I see, and tell me have you been playing nice with the other children?” he asked, leaning on the desk and a mocked conspiratorial expression on his features as he was eyeing Yuuri above his glasses. 

Yuuri smiled, playing along. “You know dad, I’m old school, an eye for an eye.” 

“I think that’s actually the Old Testament,” he said cocking his head to the side thoughtfully.

Yuuri quirked an amused eyebrow. “How do you even know that, we’re not Christians.”

“It’s general knowledge my son!” 

“Is that so?” he snorted, circling his desk to sit. He figured he could try and edge his father to talk about the Sulliman case while he himself worked on trying to find Makkachin, but he was beaten to it. 

“Sheriff Leroy and I had a meeting today to try and see what next steps we wanted to take against the group,” he said casually and Yuuri stopped breathing. 

Was his dad seriously sharing confidential information about a case he’d made Yuuri swear to stay away from? Willingly and free of pressure that was? 

Who was this man and what had he done to his father? 

He didn’t make any movement or sound of surprise however, very aware this might simply be his father having a momentary lapse of attention, and he wasn’t about to jeopardize his chances of getting close to his best shot at distraction. 

“I’ve ended up founding a lead on Bogdan. You know about that cigar shop a few kilometers south of the city? The one notoriously known to sell contraband, I believe you had a case tied to it last year. Well I was following a lead for another one of these affairs, and I ended up finding something pretty interesting. I manage to have access to the customers list; don’t ask me how, but it’s a wonder this shop is still operating with how careless the owners are with protecting the identity of their clients. Regardless, the name Bogdan was signed as the recipient on a number of items providing from the Asian market. We’re going to look into it; it’s becoming obvious that Bogdan is more than implicated in that affair”. 

Bogdan. Bogdan. Bogdan. 

Why was the name so familiar? Of course he’d heard it before, when his dad had talked about it, but it felt odd to hear it now. He’d paid attention to what his father said after, and one part of him was ecstatic about the new information; but the other part was still stuck on the name. 

He hadn’t realized how thoughtful he was until his father’s voice pulled his head back up in his direction. 

“Regardless, it’s good to finally have something concrete. We know where he’s staying for now, and I very much intend to get to the bottom of this.” 

Understanding crossed Yuuri’s mind. After months of working on what seemed like a hopeless case, his father was a little too happy about having a lead to quite contain it. Yuuri knew it was quite careless to release information of this nature, this dangerous and confidential, but his father was probably in default mode right now, and since working with his son had never entailed much concealing information on investigations before, he probably hadn’t realized what he was doing. 

Yuuri made sure he didn’t give him any reason to actually realize it, and instead casually entered the discussion. “He’s staying in town then?”

“Yeah at the Four Seasons-” he started but stopped himself rather abruptly. 

Oh. _There you go_. Yuuri carefully looked at him from the corner of his eye, pretending he was busying himself with something else at the same time. Fat chance that he’d fool his father, but he wasn’t losing anything in trying. 

His father had grown very quiet, and Yuuri noticed that he was exasperated with himself. He could practically see the cogs turning in his head: acknowledging he’d slipped up and reiterating his demand for Yuuri not to get involved, or taking the chance he’d hadn’t actually made the connection. 

“Yuuri, I don’t want you involved.” 

Yuuri wanted to laugh at how fast his father had come down to the conclusion that there wasn’t even a glimpse of chance that Yuuri hadn’t picked up on what he’d said. No need to pretend anymore. Yuuri turned his head in order to look at his father properly. 

“Let me accompany you please, I can stay in the car or whatever, but I need something productive to do, and this case really really really intrigues me!” 

The name was echoing in his mind still. And not matter how many times he turned it over and over, it was to no avail, he wasn’t making the connection. He knew he was missing something, but he couldn't quite tell what. He knew it was on the tip of his tongue however, and perhaps getting more involved in the case would unlock that? 

“What makes you think there’s anywhere to accompany me to?” his father asked, eyebrows high and a somewhat challenging flame in his eyes. 

“Aren’t you going to bug the room to get information?” 

His father opened his mouth about to retort something, but nothing came out. Really, that was obvious, they’d done it countless times and there wasn’t any chance his father would lose the opportunity to follow down the only lead he had so far. 

Frustration, exasperation, exhaustion and then resignation flashed on his father’s face as he was thinking it over. Finally he deflated, half dead-panning Yuuri with a pout on his lips, sighting subtly. 

“Fine, you can come.” 

Yuuri broke into a wide smile, not naive enough to not hear the underlying warning of ‘you’re not doing anything more’. 

Yuuri knew he probably ought to think about the lost dogs notices still in his bag, but he still really wasn’t sure how to proceed, and now that his curiosity was piqued, he knew it would be hopeless to try and focus on something else. 

His father got up, and went to the closet to get the gear needed. They had a pretty decent stock of micro-camera and mics and all sorts of other gadgets that could reveal themselves to be extremely useful when needed. 

This was one of these times, and they just needed to check that nothing will come in the way. 

“Do you know what room he’ll stay in?” Yuuri asked as they were putting it all in a small pouch.

“He booked one of the suite a little earlier today. The check in is at 7pm,” he looked at his watch as he talked. “We’re fine, I won’t need more than 10min to get in, put the mics and get out.” 

Yuuri nodded. His father zipped the bag, and made sure he put the gun in his holster before turning to face Yuuri. 

“Since you’re coming anyway, you can wait in the lobby. You’ll be in charge of making sure I don’t get caught if he decides to pop up earlier. Stop smiling.” 

“Yes sir!” He cheered, saluting.

“Let’s go hunt a Bogdan.” his father said with an indulgent smile. 

Suddenly, memories came bursting in his head, Georgi’s voice ringing into his ears, echoing in his brain. 

‘Anya Bogdanova Dvornikova’ 

_Holy shit_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! 
> 
> Regarding Yuuri's house and the Inn, it's more separated than in the anime which means you have to go out of the house to go into the Inn where the onsen is.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I don't know how things are faring for you all Covid-wise, but we're back to being quarantined where I am, so I just thought I'd spare a few moments to tell you all that I hope you and your family are well - or as well as can be, considering. 
> 
> Happy reading!

They arrived in front of the luxury hotel, and at his father’s suggestion, Yuuri didn’t stop too close from the main entrance. Their car wasn’t exactly on the same standards as the ones the hotel residents were coming in and out of. 

Yuuri was checking in the briefcase what his dad had taken with them. Taking too different radio frequency transmitters, he turned his head slightly. 

“The T6 or the T9?”

His father appeared in his line of vision, wearing a black trench coat over his suit. 

“T9; how do I look?” 

Yuuri put the T6 in his pants pocket while he kept the other one in his hand, closing the briefcase and looked up at the question. 

“Like an invisible assistant, no one would notice breaking into a room.” 

Not that the way he looked would really change much to what he was about to do, but at least like that he won’t look entirely out of place in the hotel. If he was caught in the room, his clothing won’t matter much regardless, so nothing to worry about. 

“That’ll do,” his father replied elongating the last syllable. 

As promised, Yuuri stood in a corner of the lobby, close enough to the front desk to be able to see the ins and outs, but still half hidden by the wall, knowing just the way to behave to avoid drawing attention to himself. He observed the back and forth movements of the customers checking in and out, couples playing lovey-dovey, businesspersons who liked to give themselves an important air. The staff all faking that serving uptight customers made for the highlight of their day, the smiles not reaching their eyes and falling instantaneously after the customers would look away. 

It was a strange kind of peace. He was staring from afar, not quite part of the painting, but a simple bystander, content in his distance. It was around him, but still far enough that he wasn’t any part of it. 

He thought back to the realization he’d had right before leaving the office. Anya’s middle name was like a feminine version of their main suspect for the Sulliman case. Was it even her middle name? Or had she two last names perhaps? He wasn’t exactly an expert on family names, especially one clearly of Russian descent like Anya’s was. But the two sounded far too similar to be coincidental. Right? 

How to make sure though? He was very skeptical in regards to a potential link between the two. In fact if he was being honest, the probability of such link was approximating 0%. 

It was probably how surprised he had been to hear the similarity between the two that was making him connect them. He didn’t like how his mind was whispering its ever nagging “what if”. He hated the ‘what ifs’ and in most cases, he actually ignored them. Sure, Anya could play the part of the spoiled mafia offspring incredibly well: she was spoiled rotten, vindictive, bitchy, arrogant, and even cruel on occasions. 

Yuuri let out an annoyed sigh. Yes, it sounded completely crazy. But no, he couldn’t let it go. 

Not now that his mind had made the connection, he needed to find something to either back it up or dismiss it. Whichever option it would end up being didn’t matter much, as long as it settled his peace of mind. How exactly he would do that wasn’t quite clear yet, but he didn’t worry. Surely, he’d come up with something eventually. 

Maybe Viktor would know something? His family was descending from Russian immigrants too after all, and he spoke the language. 

He did a double take as he realized what he just thought. Ask Viktor. Seriously? 

Pulling him out of his daydreaming, a group of four people emerged in the lobby, dressed way too smartly to not look suspicious, even for that kind of hotel. With a quick glance around, Yuuri noticed the three bodyguards standing a few steps away from the main group. 

Sunglasses inside, really? Very subtle. 

_Looks like the crew has arrived home early. Not good._

If they caught his father in their room...

“What can I do for you?” the receptionist asked politely, head held high as her position demanded. The man in the middle looked at her up and down, his face void of any emotion, and Yuuri saw how she visibly shrunk in on herself. 

One of his… _colleague?_ Yuuri’s mind supplied uncertainly, stepped forward a little, saving the woman from the staring down. 

“What my client is saying, is that the room isn’t quite adequate. We asked for a royal suite and on the confirmation it only said ‘suite’.” 

‘Saying’ was a big word considering he hadn’t even opened his mouth to utter even a single word yet. 

“I’ll get you switched right now,” she was quick to say, drilling her eyes onto the screen of her computer. 

_Good news? They wouldn’t walk in on dad bugging their room. Bad news? He was bugging the wrong room._

He reacted fast. 

Yuuri quickly discarded his jacket, revealing the black sweater he’d chosen that day instead of his usual t-shirts, and was quick to remove his glasses, propping them on his jacket, behind a very expensive looking vase. It should be big enough to hid everything, and lavish enough to provide anyone from getting too close. With a dexterity only experience could provide, he managed to slick back his hair in a few motions, threading his hands through the usually unruly back strands after he carelessly spit on his fingers. 

“There you go sir, room 1411, our largest.”

The man eyed her judgmentally once more as she was holding the room key out, bravely holding his stare. 

He reached out in a slow motion, his expression still as plain as earlier. “You should seriously reconsider what you call VIP service.”

The woman gulped, and Yuuri jumped on the occasion, effortlessly falling into the role. 

“Thank you so much, Sara; I’m Daniel you’re hospitality host. I’m so sorry about the mix-up, but if you gentlemen will follow me, I can show you to your room?” 

He hadn’t helped at the onsen all these years, even as occasionally as it had been, for nothing. His tone was steady, practiced. The right combo between contained cheerfulness and upmost politeness. He was standing tall, his features willed into an affable expression while making sure it stayed strictly professional, barely allowing a small smile on his lips. He’d grabbed one of the hotel-customized clipboards from the counter and he was holding it the same way he’d seen dozens of other staff members do in the hotel. 

For a small second he thought that maybe the hostess would spill the beans, or that they would be suspicious. But she looked a little too happy he’d freed her from these customers, even though she had not the slightest idea of who he was. As for the potentially-dangerous-mafia group, they graced him with the same look they’d given her, but the difference was, Yuuri didn’t falter for even a millisecond. His stance was perfect, and he knew it. The whole trick was to believe it enough to let it show on his face. 

And he was particularly well-practiced with that. Whatever they saw seemed to convince them, because they followed him towards the elevators and he mentally went over the map of the hotel his dad had examined one last time right before leaving the car. He had wanted to check one last time where the room was located, in order to avoid having to run around in the hallways more than necessary, and Yuuri praised himself for the initiative of checking out the map himself. He didn’t know exactly where the room was, just that it was on the 14th floor, and that he’d have to turn left upon leaving the elevator. It was already more than he needed in order to play the part. 

He hadn’t expected the pressure that would come with being followed by four mafia with very obvious gun holder under their impeccable suits, in a 2x1.5 meters square moving metal box. 

The silence was deafening, and other than that, his heart was hammering in his chest. He forced himself to breathe as calmly as he could, dearly hoping his face was as neutral as he was willing it to be. At least knowing they wouldn't notice it crazy heartbeat was reassuring, but it didn’t make him feel more comfortable. 

He made a mental reminder not to sigh in relief when the doors of the elevator opened, simply stepping out with a composed but energetic pace. He led them in the hallways with far more confidence than he felt and once they reached the door held out his hand instead of allowing them to open it themselves. 

The man that Yuuri was pretty sure was Bogdan barely reacted, if not for the subtle eyebrow raise, but didn’t protest as he dropped the room key in Yuuri’s expectant hand. He couldn’t let them go in by themselves if he wanted the opportunity to make up for the room switch. 

Not knowing what exactly to expect when he opened the door, he had to make serious efforts not to let his mouth fall agape at how big the suite was, or how luxurious for that matter. He led them into what he hoped was the main room, but considering the numerous couches, the glass coffee table in the middle and the large plasma TV, he deemed it was a good bet. 

“Here is your suite, gentlemen,” he welcomed as he stepped in. He managed to localize what he thought was the master bedroom, and the bathroom. “You will find the bathroom right this way, and the master bedroom is situated right behind me.” 

They had stopped scrutinizing Yuuri in favor of inspecting the room, and Yuuri jumped on the opportunity, setting the small but powerful mic right under the metal tray supporting one of the decorative tables behind the main couch. They probably won’t have the best quality recording they could have hoped for, but at least it was better than ending up with nothing. 

Running out on bullshit to serve them, Yuuri decided he might as well leave now. He smiled politely, allowing his gaze to flicker to each of them, but making sure he held eye contact longer with Bogdan, he said, “I hope everything will suit you, and if not, it will be a pleasure for any member of our staff to assist you. Enjoy your stay.”

He had to calm himself down to avoid running out of the room, but he still managed to stay in the persona he’d crafted fourteen floors earlier, and they didn’t add anything. It was only when he was back in the safety of the empty elevator that he breathed out, dropping his arms to his sides. 

If he could avoid having to pull this kind of stunt right off the bat next time, he’d appreciate. 

When he emerged out of the backdoor of the hotel after getting his discarded jacket and glasses back, his father was waiting for him with what Yuuri could clearly see as unsurprised exasperation coating his features. 

“Where have you been?” he asked a little hastily, pointing a finger at Yuuri as he approached before he circled the car to get settled in, “Didn’t I say-”. 

“Bathroom break.” 

The ease and rapidity with which lies could pop up in his head was honestly frightening. 

“How’d we do?” Yuuri asked innocently as soon as they were both in the car. 

“I think we’re in business,” his father answered after having typed in the reference of the mics he’d bugged the room with in their software. 

A high-pitched voice shrilled through the computer speakers, throwing insults about watching too much golf, to a man that was annoyed at being cut off in the middle of his program. 

Yuuri pursed his lips. “Wait, try this,” he said just as innocently, leaning towards his father in order to change the frequency, and immediately the device caught the new signal, and they could clearly hear another group talking. 

_‘I didn’t know that hotel had hospitality hosts, and this one wasn’t wearing a uniform…’_

_‘It doesn’t matter, this isn’t important. Focus instead of wandering around.’_

Yuuri could feel his father’s gaze boring into him, and as he dared look up for barely a second he saw his dad giving him the evil eye with an impressive exasperated grimace on his face. 

“Just... please don’t ask,” was all he said. “What now?”

His father sighed heavily, and the previous stance melted away as they both reached for their seat belt. “Now, I get to see if you took a useful risk or not,” he said with a hint of a smile in the little crinkles around his eyes. Yuuri smiled widely at that. 

“On the bright side, this Bogdan guy seem to have such an ego he doesn’t notice people he deems inferior,” Yuuri said shrugging. 

His father hummed a little judgmentally, as if saying ‘don’t push it’. Yuuri chuckled, quite happy with how things had played out in the end. He’d helped, and even though this hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park, in hindsight he felt a little badass. The fact that his father wasn’t on the verge of locking him up in his room for the rest of eternity wasn’t a bad point either. 

His mind was still reeling over that bright side of feeling like the Suliman case wasn’t completely hopeless, when Yuuri’s thoughts wandered back to where they’d been before they got interrupted: Bogdan and the resemblance with Anya’s name. He eyed his father from the corner of his eye. Maybe he should talk about it? He was a little uncertain about what good it would do, considering this was a very wild speculation. Pretty much unfounded in fact. He wanted to have a little more concrete material to talk about before he inferred anything. 

“Can you drop me off at the office Yuu? I’ll come home a bit later.”

“Oh, you’re sure?” Yuuri asked without looking away from the road. 

His father hummed in response. “I have a couple of things to finish, and I’d rather do it there; if I go home your mother will persuade me to stop working for the day.”

Yuuri grinned. “Even though she’ll never concede to that much if the roles were reversed.” 

“That’s true,” his father chuckled. 

Yuuri dropped his father off at the office, before he headed straight home, feeling how the exhaustion of these last few days was wearing on him. He was sleeping but not particularly well, and the emotional drain of having to take care of such a personal case in addition to working with Viktor wasn’t being forgiving. His muscles were starting to ache as a result of it, and he was glad that the office wasn’t too far from their house. There wasn’t any chance he’d fallen asleep while driving, but he could have easily run a red light or even forget to stop if necessary due to the lack of attention he was starting to be aware of. 

Let’s just say, he was glad once he finally pulled in their driveway. The lights of the inn were still on, but it wouldn’t be long before they would flicker out as the guests went to bed, and his family want back home, leaving one staff member on duty for the night. 

Yuuri tried to stretch his neck and shoulder, feeling how stiff they were. He exited the old car, checked twice if he’d locked properly and strode to their porch with the earnest intention of going to bed. 

Foraging in his backpack to get a hold on his keys, he felt his phone vibrate, and curiosity took over as he realized he hadn’t checked since the morning.

“What the hell,” he muttered as he scrolled down on the locked screen of the device and saw all the notifications waiting for him. The most shocking was that all of it was from only one person: Viktor. 

Yuuri was past the point of tired, and he really didn’t want to deal with whatever this was. If Viktor had waited a day, he could just as well wait until tomorrow-

He almost startled as the phone chimed again. Once, twice, three times. 

He gritted his teeth and just put the thing on airplane mode without much more considerations. He wasn’t upset at Viktor per se. He was upset that he was being this insistent, but if places were reversed, Yuuri _would_ have been trying to reach the other persistently too. It was just…

He deflated, feeling defeated.

He needed sleep. His head felt like he’d been rolled over by a truck with how much it was pounding, and he would have neither the patience nor the will to try and focus on what Viktor was saying in his texts and voicemails. Between Seung-Gil and Yun the day before, the onsen and Minami that morning, the Sulliman case and the Hotel that evening, and the swirling of thoughts about Makkachin and Anya that didn’t stop harassing him, the day really didn’t put him in the best mood to deal with whatever it was Viktor was trying to reach him for. 

He gave Vicchan a few hugs after he’d closed the door behind him, but without further ado, went to his room to sleep off the day. He was gone before his head touched the pillow. 

***

The hope of getting started on a plan to find Makkachin was crippled when he woke up in the early afternoon with a headache. He desperately drank the content of his water bottle twice, hoping to rehydrate properly so that the headache would fade, but neither that nor the Tylenol really helped, and he ended up moving at a snail’s pace for the several hours after he woke up. He wanted to be annoyed at himself for it but he almost didn’t have the energy for it. 

To make matters worse, he was assaulted by what could easily be hundreds of notifications. He had literally thrown himself back to bed as soon as he had turn his phone back on normal mode, and what welcomed him was the blaring alarms of missed calls and messages from Viktor. Again. 

Damn, he didn’t know when to stop. Yuuri felt a tinge of guilt for ignoring him so, but to be honest, he wasn’t feeling up to deal with filling him on the news about Yun, while having nothing concrete to propose regarding Makka. 

He didn’t have anything to go on with. Sure he had the posters, but what good were they? It was weird that suddenly all the dogs in their bloody city were disappearing, but then again, Yun had died from an accident. Yuuri’s first assumption could easily prove to be the right one: the dog had noticed a funny looking or sounding car, followed it, got lost and ended up in the dangerous traffic. 

He dearly hoped that wasn’t the case. He didn’t want the expression that had appeared on Seung-Gil’s face replicate on anyone else, and he couldn’t bear to think about Makkachin destined to a similar fate. He had to find her. 

He had been sitting uselessly at his desk, utterly unable to focus for the last few hours, when he received yet another call that made him start a little, more surprised that he had forgotten to put the phone back on mute than anything else. He almost didn’t check the caller ID, fairly certain it would be Viktor, but curiosity still won, and he threw a quick side glance over the screen and saw Mari’s face lighting up the device.

“Oh neechan,” he murmured to himself as he picked up the phone. 

**“Yuu! How are you little bro?”** the ever so calm voice of his sister asked, although Yuuri heard tinges of excitement. She had been extremely busy with midterms in the past few weeks, retreating in her books enough that the rest of the world essentially disappeared out of her awareness. Yuuri knew better than to bother her when she was stressed out. 

He let out a single breathy chuckle at hearing her tone. “Tired mostly, but good.”

**”Have you been helping dad more than you should again?”** She was obviously teasing him, but the hint of judgment didn’t escape him and he rolled his eyes before remembering she couldn’t see him. 

“You’re really not the best person to tell me that Mari, considering all the extra hours you did at the inn before you left.”

She hummed; the way Yuuri recognized was her way of readying herself for her next argument. 

**“Except I was doing it mostly because jiichan had this bad lumbago or when one of them was sick. You do it cause you’re obsessed.”**

He scoffed loudly. “Am not.”

“Are too!”

He heard her laugh at their usual childish banter as he smiled. Gosh, how old were they? 

**“Anyway, how’s everything been?”**

Yuuri suddenly felt himself tense a little, and unable to answer. Yeah, how exactly had things been? Beside extraordinarily upsetting and exhausting? He didn’t have an answer to that question without going through everything that had happened in the last few days since he came back from Philly, and it seemed too big of a task. And probably too complicated.  
But then Minami’s outburst from the day before made him reconsider. 

“Mari-nee,” he started, but not exactly sure how to continue, “do you remember my 7th grade year?” 

The line went eerily silent, and Yuuri frowned, worrying that he might have lost the signal. “Mari?” 

Just as he removed the phone from his ear to try and see if the call had accidently been disconnected, she spoke again. 

**“Why do you ask about that?”**

Her voice had hardened subtly, but he really didn’t want to dwell on it. He probably would need to come up with a better reason than ‘just wondering’. They never talked about that, but what Minami had brought up, the hurt in his voice as he was telling his version of the event, and remembering how Phichit had been vaguely angry about it all too, he felt like he needed to have his sister’s advice. 

For what exactly he wasn’t really sure. There was no way he would commit the same mistake he had back then. If trusting Viktor could even be considered a mistake. They had been friends, and Viktor had decided it didn’t matter anymore. There was nothing Yuuri had done to provoke it, at least nothing he could have ever figured out, even with how much time he spent trying to understand. It was Viktor’s decision to destroy it all, and his sole mistake had been to hung onto hope for as long as he had during the months that followed. 

But regardless, that wouldn’t happen again, the circumstances were different. Viktor and him weren’t friends, and even if helping him find Makka might help in making their relationship less strained, which was better than the alternative, Yuuri couldn’t fathom a single probability in which something even remotely similar to 7th grade both in scale and situation would occur. 

He had said so to Phichit. He had said so to Minami. 

But he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t sure how to phrase it though. After a few lingering seconds, he heard her whisper and mumbled, **“I don’t think I could ever forget your 7th grade.”**

He released a breath he hadn’t even realize he was holding. And despite his initial reluctance, he told her everything that happened in the last three days, avoiding what related to the Sulliman case. She listened intently for a while as he tried to go over all the details of Yuri’s weird request, followed by Viktor’s weirder behavior, Makka’s disappearance, his collaboration with Seung-Gil and Viktor and their fight, Michel’s sick joke, and all of the details in between including what Phichit had said, and what Minami had told him the day before. 

She let out deep breath after he finished, clearly starting to understand how extensive this whole thing was. She had remained mainly silent when he was recounting the events, occasionally allowing a few hums or clicking her tongue from time to time. 

**“I understand why you accepted to help him Yuu, but that’s a hell of a shit show you put yourself in.”**

That was an understatement. 

“Yeah well, it’s for Makka…”

**“No I get that baby bro, I’m not saying you shouldn’t help and in fact I would probably judge you if you weren’t helping. Damn even I would help for that mutt!”**

And that wasn’t something small by any means. Yuuri was very aware of the resentment Mari still held for Viktor’s actions. She used to tutor Yuri when she was still in town before leaving for college, and after that happened, she refused to go back to their house with Yuri, and instead tutored him either at the inn or in cafés nearby the school. 

**“Don’t get spiraled back in though,”** she added, her tone not patronizing but simply showing the faint concern she couldn’t completely conceal behind the clear trust she had in him. He smiled softly. Once a big sister, always a big sister, no matter how many years passed. 

“I won’t. Hell, I have Phichit to kick my ass if I do,” he said jokingly. 

**“He would too,”** she laughed light-heartedly. 

“But Mari, I just…” he started but trailed off, unsure whether he should follow that train of thought. The reason he’d spent more than an hour explaining all of this was for that particular question but he couldn’t help but second-guessing the relevance of it now. 

“I do remember how devastated I was when it happened, you know back in 7th grade. But I just wanted to ask… After that conversation with Phichit, and then Minami, they insisted on how awful it was. I will never be able to forget what I was feeling back then; more than anyone else, I know how bad it hurt me but I moved past it a long time ago. I’m totally fine now, and I can’t help but be a little upset that they insist that I’m at risk to fall back in the same pattern. As if I’m stupid enough to make the same mistake again you know? I mean, yes I was a train-wreck for a while, but I just wish they wouldn’t make it sound like nothing has changed since then…”

He trailed off again, realizing how nonsensical his entire monologue was. But like usual, Mari read between the lines, and understood exactly what he meant. 

He, on the other hand, had a little more trouble understanding her. 

**“Neither Phichit nor Minami were implying you could be stupid enough to make the same mistake. You and I both know being friends with Viktor wasn’t a** mistake; **you were inseparable as kids, and I considered he and Yurio like my brothers by association. What you have to understand is that it wasn’t only about you baby bro, that’s what Minami was telling you.”**

“Eh?”

**“What Viktor did that day, destroyed your 11 year-old-self, but the collateral damage was your friends and family that had to suffer in silence through your tears. Phichit spent a lot of time here, I mean home, to try and comfort you but you weren’t receptive for the longest time. You were in a daze.”**

“Yeah no, I know that. I’m the one who lived it, I remember how badly hurt I was.”

**“I’m not saying you don’t Yuu, I’m saying you forgot to realize that you feeling hurt like that hurt everyone around you. And before you start thinking the wrong thing, no I’m not saying it was your fault or anything like that. You didn’t choose to hurt us, it just happened because we felt mostly helpless in helping you. And that’s what Minami was telling you. He felt abandoned because of what happened, and he felt incredibly sad just as much for him than for you. He wasn’t much younger than you were, but at that age that’s enough to create a gap in how you understand things. It took a long time for him to understand, that you crying despite his attempts to comfort you, wasn’t because of him.”**

Yuuri could do nothing but try and process the words. She was right. He hadn’t realized anything. He had been way too caught up in his own pain to really notice what had revolved around him. He knew his friends and family didn’t leave his side, always there to pat his back as he cried himself to sleep, listening when he could actually align two words, and prodding him into taking care of himself. He just hadn’t realized the extent of the toll it ended up being for them. 

Now he felt a little ashamed of himself for feeling vexed at what he took for distrust in him on Phichit and Minami’s part. 

**“Yuu, I can hear you overthinking,”** Mari gently chastised, and he smile weakly. 

“I feel stupid for not thinking about that before,” he lamely said. 

**“How could you? You were too hurt to think about anything else, and none of us will hold that against you. You were a child too, anyone would have reacted the way you did. And it’s been years now.”**

He hummed without real conviction. 

**“Yuu, seriously try to stop feeling bad about it. When Phichit and Minami told you that, they weren’t trying to bring back bad memories, nor showing mistrust in your ability to work out things on your own. They were also afraid for themselves because they care about you, and what happens to you will affect them, just as it would you if roles were reversed. You’d have done the same if not more if you had been in their place and it was one or the other going through what you are.”**

He couldn’t fault that logic, and at least it made him feel a little better. He sighed tiredly. 

**“C’mon baby bro, stop mopping! Where’s your usual fire and spike,** _ne_ ?”

He rolled his eyes and huffed playfully. She hummed approvingly. 

**“Better! I’m gonna have to go, I’m meeting friends for dinner soon.”**

He threw a quick glance at the time on his computer. “Oh crap that late already! I haven’t done anything all day…” 

**“Nah whatever, shit happens Yuu. Besides, it’s Sunday; Sundays exist so that you can actually do nothing”.**

“I guess so,” he said as a yawn took over him. “I was tired anyway. Thank you though Neechan. For what you told me.”

**“Anytime Yuu, you know that! I’ll talk to you soon, good luck in finding Makka I really hope it turns out well! And be careful!”**

“Yup, me too. Thank you, I will! Love you.”

**“Love you too,”** she answered, before the line went dead. He stretched his shoulders and neck as he set the phone down, trying to shake off the lethargy he had felt all day. Not that it really helped, but oh well. 

As he talked with Mari, he had started to have an idea of what he could do to try and see if all the dog notices were linked or not. If he was being honest, it was far-fetched, but he had to check. It was too late to put his idea into action now though, so he set the carton folder aside, and pulled his computer closer. 

He wanted to try and look into what Anya’s name meant. If it meant anything. But it seemed so crazy that both their suspect and her name sounded so similar. The case had had so little hints and leads since it had opened, he could spare a few moments to look through what could easily be a coincidence. At least, he’d have tried. He did feel stupid for typing “russian naming system” in the search bar, because objectively how complicated could naming be? 

Well apparently a little, but at least the information was easy enough to find, and it had strengthened his suspicion that perhaps Anya and the person from his father’s investigation might be somewhat related. Anya’s middle name was a patronymic, which meant that it was her father’s name and the ‘a’ at the end simply meant she was a girl. Now that he had the information, he vaguely recalled Viktor explaining him something similar, a long time ago. It felt like forever ago in fact. 

He shook his head as his mother’s call for dinner interrupted his research. He couldn’t help but turning the new information in his head during the entire meal, and instead of helping him understand better, it confused him more than he could describe. 

What made no sense whatsoever, was that everyone knew who Anya’s father was. He was just as known in the city – and the country, for that matter – than Viktor’s father was. As the CEO of one of the largest corporation in the country, Andrei Dvornikov was the kind of men who had their name plastered on buildings and their face on the cover of business magazines. Yuuri knew what he looked like, and that wasn’t like the man he had led to the suite the night before. 

In other words, he wasn’t much more advanced in his research than he was before. Or he was, but instead he had more questions and still no answers. 

The only name they had in the Sulliman case was “Bogdan”; nothing else. Yuuri didn’t even know whether it was a family name or a first name. The only thing tying Anya to that was her patronymic, but that would mean her father was supposed to be Bogdan Dvornikov. Which, he wasn’t. He’d tried to check if maybe the famous billionaire had changed his name at some point, but his private life was more secret than any hidden pirate chest. After going back to his room, Yuuri spent hours googling whatever key words he could think of, spent the same amount of time on their private search index, but absolutely nothing came up.

He dejectedly gave up after a while, knowing it would be idiotic to push himself through another too short night. And besides, there wasn’t much he could be doing now anyway. So instead, he went to bed, and like the night before, fell asleep almost instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that chapter! 
> 
> Regarding the mic references at the beginning of the chapter, I actually took that straight out of the script of one VM episode and then spent hours trying to research what exactly it meant. I gave up cause I couldn't find it, so instead I'm pretending that "T6" and "T9" are transmitter types. My apologies for the inaccuracies.
> 
> Also let's gloss over the fact that I made Mari say that Sundays exist for the sole purpose of doing nothing to reassure myself because I have an unhealthy relationship with productivity and needed to remind myself that it's fine not to do anything once in a while!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And chapter 9! Enjoy! :D

For once, the above deities listened to him, and he managed to avoid Viktor for the entire day. How, he was still wondering, but he didn’t dwell on that part of the matter, the important one being that he’d managed it. 

When he had woken up with yet more messages from Viktor, he had suddenly been assaulted by a wave of guilt as his mind kept nagging him with “what ifs”, each more grim than the next. After checking every single text messages Viktor had sent, that guilt slowly but surely turned into annoyance that mutated into profound exasperation. 

Besides Viktor’s apparent utter lack of patience, nothing was actually wrong at all. The messages all essentially had the same core, with different words, sometimes colorful language that had Yuuri raise an eyebrow. In short, Viktor had pestered him the entire weekend to have news, and instead of waiting like a normal, sane and functional individual, Viktor had sent dozens and dozens of texts, wondering if Yuuri had miraculously found Makkachin and somehow hadn’t told him. 

He had had to resist the urge to hurl the phone across the room pretty strongly when he’d read and listened to everything and instead had decided it was much healthier to scream bloody murder in his pillow. 

In some obscure, forgotten part of his mind, Yuuri knew it was petty, but he hadn’t answered a single text or call just to spite him. He had only realized once at the school that if Viktor had the ability to be the definition of annoying from a distance, he didn’t want to face the consequences of his unresponsiveness in person, and he had taken to ignore him all day – no he wasn’t running away. He wasn’t. 

It didn’t matter in the end because he managed, and despite a few close calls, Yuuri had escaped Viktor’s scrutiny the entire day. 

As soon as school let out, he went straight to the office, seeking peace to work out his plan, and aware that this was the best place to find some. 

The building was a little old, and had a cozy vintage feel to it. With colored glass at the window, it bathed the room with a dim and warm – although not the most efficient – light. The wooden decrepit slat were covered with a reddish carpet, and the first room was full with second-hand but good quality furniture that Yuuri and his father had dredged up here and there. It perhaps wasn’t anything amazing to look at, but to Yuuri he always felt appeased there, and he knew from experience that the homey vibe the place was radiating often helped their clients feeling comfortable. 

His father wasn’t there when he arrived, which Yuuri took for a sign that he was tracking a lead, and he crossed the room in a few quick strides, letting himself fall in the plushy chair, not losing time in removing the folder from his bag.

His eyes were riveted to the desk, flying over the twentyish spread out papers, each comporting picture of a dog, phone number and reward. This looked like an epidemic, and for the first time since he’d started working on this, he knew with certitude this couldn't be a coincidence. Viktor would be happy to know that he had the potential to believe in coincidences when well backed-up. 

Well, that was if he managed to find Makka safe and sound. 

Cold sweat laced down his spine at the thought of the alternative, a shiver shaking his upper body uncomfortably. He reached for one of the signs, reaching out to the landline phone sitting on the side of his large desk. 

That better not happen, or else he’d never be able to look at Viktor in the eye again. 

He froze, mid-movement, horrified with himself for even caring about that. He was doing this for Makka damn it. 

Before his own conscience started whispering how this sounded a hell lot like a poor excuse, troubling his – admittedly relative – peace of mind in the process, he shook his head a little more forcefully than was necessary, and slammed the phone away from its holder and to his ear, quickly composing the number on the paper he was holding. 

There would start the calling marathon. 

It rang once, twice, and someone picked up. 

“Hi I was calling about your missing Yorky,” he paused. “..Oh you did, great! How did you find him?” 

As soon as the call was over, he’d set aside the paper, and picked up the next one. 

"Three weeks,” he wondered, half humming. “No I didn't find him, just a concerned dog lover. How much is the reward?”

“Hi is this Bridget? Hi I'm calling about your beagle Loui, is he still missing? I'll definitely be on the lookout for him; good luck."

He repeated the motions, the same words, the same empathetic tone over and over up until he’d reached the end of the list. By then he’d noticed a pattern, and that was anything but reassuring. He set down the phone one last time, setting both hands on the desk for a few seconds. 

Only the owners who'd offered big rewards had gotten their dogs back. What happened to the dogs who didn’t bring a high enough price? Did they end up like Yun, just left by the side of the highway to die? 

Yuuri felt a surge of acid anger manifesting itself in the pit of his stomach as he had the intuition he’d put the finger on the crux of the problem. He couldn’t do anything for Seung-Gil’s dog anymore, but if someone was stealing dogs in Hasetsu they needed to be brought down. Hard. And then beaten with a shovel and then dumped into the nearest body of water. 

His heart almost stopped when a shadow stood over him, and a voice asked something he didn’t quite register the first time, under the course of surprise. 

“Oh gosh,” he breathed out, half jumping out of his skin and his hand automatically clenching his shirt where his heart was hammering against his chest. “Dad, seriously say something before towering over me like an angel of death,” he accused, glaring at his father. 

He quirked an eyebrow. “Angel of death? Not sure I’m too appreciative of _that_ nickname,” he mused on purpose, and Yuuri rolled his eyes only half seriously. His father nudged the bundle of paper on the desk. “What’s all that? Working on a case.?”

Yuuri hummed. “Yes there’s these missing dogs all over town...actually mostly in targeted more or less wealthy neighborhood, and I think there might be something behind it. I mean, more than just dogs going crazy and running off.” 

His father made a non-committal sound of understanding, eyes flickering through the papers, eyebrows subtly knitting together. “It’s a spontaneous investigation?” he asked looking back at Yuuri. “Isn’t there other cases you’ll get paid for?” 

Yuuri didn’t answer for a couple of seconds, the time the words needed to be processed, before shaking his head.

“Oh no no, I’m being paid for this, it actually started with Viktor Nikiforov,” he started, stressing on the name as he levelled a pointy gaze at his father, “coming to ask me for help; can you believe that? Turns out, his dog is among those that have gone missing, and considering I’m the one who got him Makka, I really couldn’t turn him down.” 

He’d felt the need to justify himself as soon as he saw his father’s eyes burning with an unreadable glim, face oh so subtly closing off, suddenly being composed into a mask of neutrality that took Yuuri a little by surprise. He didn’t have time to dwell on it much however, because his father was already stepping into the adjacent office next to the main room in which Yuuri’s desk was set up. 

“Dad are you-” 

He got interrupted by the door being slammed open, and he snapped his head in its direction only to see Viktor barging in the office. 

His blood ran cold instantaneously as his eyes went as round as saucers.

“Yuuri!” he called out, and as soon as his gaze landed on Yuuri, he had reached the desk in a few wide strides, setting both hands on the desk and towering him. “You better have an amazingly good explanation as to why you’ve completely ignored texts and calls all week-end and then actually ran away from me today!” he demanded with a peremptory tone that stunned Yuuri, if only a little. 

He recovered quickly though, closing his mouth that had gaped open at the sight, he shot him a sharp look. 

“I do actually, but you won’t like it so I won’t bother and waste my breath on it,” he shot back and as Viktor’s features contorted into an offended expression he though preferable to cut him off before he could add anything.

“And I’m in the middle of something here, so can you please go?” It might have been asked as a question, but Viktor better be good at reading between the lines because it wasn’t meant as one. 

He didn’t seem to react as Yuuri had wanted him to, but it effectively distracted him. At Yuuri’s gesture in direction of the papers across the desk, his eyes dropped on them and what he saw clearly puzzled him, brows knitting together as he tried to guess why in the world Yuuri had dozens of flyers of missing dogs. 

Yuuri wasn’t exactly patient to begin with, but Viktor’s barging in the office with an attitude had done nothing to help in the matter. He exhaled sharply through his nose and clenched his jaw. 

“Are you done? Can you leave now?” 

Viktor looked back up, and despite the clear confusion on his features, his eyes had hardened into a determination that went beyond what Yuuri had seen coming from him so far. 

His eyes were burning an icy cold gleam, and Yuuri recognized the same stubbornness that he knew his own eyes burned with all times he worked a case. There wouldn’t be any talking him into leaving now. Yuuri was stubborn, but not stupid and he wasn’t too keen on wasting his time. 

Viktor’s stance screamed he wouldn’t move before obtaining any kind of information or reasoning, and despite all his reluctance that wasn’t something Yuuri could blame him for, knowing he was the one who had purposely avoided him all day after ignoring him during the entire week-end. 

“Fine,” he reluctantly exclaimed, with annoyance clear in both his face and the flippant gesture in direction of one of the chair next to Viktor. 

He looked satisfied enough because he didn’t pipe a word out, simply settling in the chair Yuuri had shown him. 

“Those are missing dog notices-”

“I’ve noticed.”

Yuuri glared. 

“Those are missing dog notices that I found close to where I walk with Vicchan,” he finished his sentence lacing the words with all the venom he could manage. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was so aggravated at the moment. Perhaps it was Viktor’s demanding tone, or the constant reminder of what had happened five years ago with every person in his life thinking he was going to lose it again just because he was helping Viktor. First Phichit, then Minami and his sister’s explanation, and now his father’s weird behavior at the minor mention of the other teenager. Regardless he focused back on the topic at hand. 

“It’s the first time I’ve seen that many.” 

“I told you,” Viktor almost singsonged with a little condescending air. 

Alright, now he felt even more justified for being frustrated. How in the bloody hell could anyone be this annoying? He cursed himself for believing that Viktor could be anything other than an irritating brat. He’d thought he had seen another facet of Viktor last Friday, one that didn’t have to render him crazy. Well jokes on him. 

“Shut up or I stop explaining anything.” 

Viktor refrained from commenting, simply produced a barely visible but to Yuuri oh so obvious smirk with a wide gesture of his hand encompassing the desk. 

Yuuri ended up explaining what he wanted to do, and surprisingly enough, Viktor didn’t interrupt this time. Perhaps he had a quota for how many times he could be annoying per conversation?

Regardless, Yuuri wasn’t going to complain. 

“Ok I want to help,” Viktor finally stated casually after Yuuri had finished talking. 

Yuuri couldn’t help but burst out laughing, which coated a pout of Viktor’s features. 

“I’m sorry Viktor, but I’m not letting you any closer to this than you already are,” he breathed out in between his pit of laughing. 

“And why’s that? It’s _my_ dog!”

“It might be _your dog_ , but you asked for _my_ help. And because you are utterly incapable of handling it the way I would need you to. You almost passed out from stress the last time you accompanied me and that was for a meeting with a local co-op manager.”

“I did not!”

“Oh yes you did; and besides I can’t waste time updating you constantly on why or how I’m going to proceed.”

His tone was adamant and he noticed how Viktor’s features hardened substantially. He wasn’t exactly glaring at Yuuri, but his eyes were burning an icy determination. 

“I don’t want Makka to end up like Yun”.

Yuuri instinctively flinched at the mention of the accident. He wouldn’t have been more shocked if Viktor had suddenly told him he was in fact an alien. He hadn’t expected Viktor to either know about this, nor react the way he seemed to have, nor to even bring it up as an argument.

Had Seung-Gil told him? Likely, because he certainly hadn’t in the fear Viktor wouldn’t react well at the news. All the same, he was surprised Seung-Gil took the time to inform Viktor, but probably more so that Viktor looked somewhat calm about it. Well, the anger radiating from his form put aside. 

“Did Seung-Gil tell you?” was all he could manage to say at the moment. 

Viktor nodded, jaw clenched and brows knitted together. 

“I’m not staying out of it Yuuri, I want to help. I _need_ to help. I can’t stay out of it knowing that Makka might be wandering around, or injured on the side of a road, or considering all of this,” he said pointing out the paper, “maybe in the hand of a psycho.” 

Yuuri really couldn't argue with that rhetoric. It made perfect sense Viktor wanted to do everything he could to help. His coming to ask Yuuri, of all people, for help had already made that point clear. It didn’t mean Yuuri wasn’t right in being cautious for not wanting Viktor to be involved. Sure, it wasn’t a drug dealing investigation, but based off his intuition he knew this was more than just dogs running off. What he had no idea about what or who was behind it, and more importantly, how Viktor would react if they ended up in a compromising situation. 

“I can’t baby you.” 

“Of course not! And I don’t want you to! I know I haven’t been exactly the best example of composure recently, and I know I kept whining the first chance I got. But after Seung-Gil told me, the only thing I could think of was how angry I was. Because even if we’d proven Seung-Gil was in no way involved in Makka’s disappearance, I know that someone is responsible for her disappearance. I told you that, the very first time we talked about it, and considering what you have on your desk, I could bet my life that you’ve come to the same conclusions.”

Yuuri was speechless, but he wouldn’t show it on his face. Viktor didn’t allow him to stay speechless long however, because he continued; 

“Am I wrong?” he asked, with a challenging look. 

Yuuri refrained from rolling his eyes, and looked sideways for a second instead, before sighing heavily and willing his eyes back on Viktor’s expectant face. 

“I swear you better not make me regret this,” he said with a low voice, purposely lacing it with all the warning he could muster. 

Viktor didn’t flinch, and if anything he looked even more determined that before. Was it Seung-Gil’s news that had flipped his switch? There was no trace of the distressed teen that had followed him the past few days. 

“I won’t.”

“Fine then, you’ll help.” Viktor’s features relaxed somewhat, and he leaned a little forward giving a glance from Yuuri to the desk, waiting to be given something to do. 

“Just... take that, and cut small rectangles of papers; like twentyish of them,” he explained putting a pile of blank paper in front of Viktor and indicated the pair of scissors. 

They needed to modify the ads of the dogs that were still missing, increasing the reward considerably. He would also need to put his own phone number instead of the previous owner’s in order for this to work. They would stick the piece of papers on the information he wished to change and then photocopy the altered flyer, thus making the alteration absolutely unnoticeable. 

While Viktor cut the papers, he wanted to go ask his father why he’d looked like a wax statue earlier. He hadn’t forgotten the expression he’d taken upon knowing what Yuuri was working on, and he was anxious to know why that was. 

“I’ll be right back,” he informed Viktor, who was already diligently working on the papers, half biting his lips in focus and only hummed in reply. 

He knocked on the half-closed door, and entered upon hearing his father answer.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

His father nodded;. “Yes of course,” he said casually with a smile, the earlier expression still lingering although it had subdued a little. 

Yuuri closed the door behind him. He didn’t want Viktor to hear. 

“Why did you react like that when I told you I was working on that case?” he asked a little suspicious. 

His father stared at him a handful of seconds, and sighed. 

“Nothing really, but I’d rather you don’t spend time with that boy.”

Yuuri instantaneously knew it was a lie. He could see that he meant it about Viktor, which annoyed him for some reason, but he knew there was more to it than “nothing really.” 

He couldn’t fool him with a pretense of casual tone. He also had the intuition his father wouldn’t spill the beans, and he wouldn’t receive any answer at all if he pressed. Instead he focused on the second part of his particularly odd reply. 

“Why?” he blurted out. 

He couldn’t help but clench his jaw at the thought that he’d been right, and this was yet again another person to give an opinion about how awfully Yuuri had handled the situation. He knew he was being unfair, especially after hearing out Mari’s explanation. But he couldn’t help it. 

“Just saying,” his father shrugged. 

His tone bore a finality that Yuuri couldn’t quite explain. But if his father thought he’d give up now, something in his ability to read people really had faltered. He exhaled slowly, trying to get rid of his frustration. For better or worse, he’d heard his sister, and he knew that it was only genuine concern that pushed his family and friends to react the way they did. He still felt the need to reassure the man. 

“I won’t actually spend much time with him, so far I mostly did the searching myself, and now he’ll only help from the side” he half-lied with the same skill he usually demonstrated. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that starting now, Viktor would not leave him out of his sight. But given his father’s concern, he wasn’t going to say that out loud. 

His father hummed, and behind the casual sound Yuuri discerned a hint of skepticism but he didn’t press. 

That was fine by him, although he really had a hard time quieting the urge of asking the real reason behind his father avoiding the truth. He managed though, and with a last sigh he swiveled around, and left the office, closing behind him. As he settled back in his chair, Viktor looked at him with a small satisfied smile on his lips. 

“Done!” 

That was fast. He took the perfectly rectangular shaped papers, and eyed Viktor subtly above the edge of his glasses. 

“Thanks.”

He proceeded to write down the increased rewards and his own phone number. The best way to catch a fish was to put an enough valued bait for it to come out itself. If his intuition was correct and someone was using dogs as a pocket money ATM, increased reward would probably spark their interest and the likelihood that they’d entangle themselves in his net was rather high. It wouldn’t appear suspicious either, since many owners were likely to go to great length to get their dogs back, and it would easily be deemed as a desperate gesture. 

If the potential thief took the bait, they’d call his number and he’d be able to approach them, hence leading him closer to the dogs. 

Assuming he was correct and not simply overthinking. But the link between high reward with finding the dog was a little too big to be ignored. He’d be a fool not to look into it. And besides, it wasn’t just him. Viktor thought the same. 

Viktor helped him glue a couple of papers before Yuuri asked him to photocopy each ad in at least five copies. 

Satisfied, he gathered them up, and grabbed the handle of his bag before eyeing Viktor who was still standing there, not moving. 

“Are you going to stay here or…?” he said a hint of sarcasm in his tone. 

“What? Oh no, yes I’m coming!” he scurried to take his own bag, and followed Yuuri to the door. 

The only thing left to do now, was to go and set all of this across the city for good measure. He would make sure to keep at least one copy of each along with the originals. He didn’t feel like having to do this all over again.

***

The next day Yuuri told what had happened to Phichit in the line at the cafeteria. His friend had laughed so hard he had almost doubled over. 

“I really don’t see how that’s funny!” 

“Oh I don’t know, maybe because he beat you at your own game by being even more stubborn than you are?” he had retorted in between two breaths. He had been having way too much fun with this. 

“Hilarious,” he had retorted, half deadpanning Phichit right before noticing Yuuko sitting with Takeshi and Emil at one table, waving at them. “Let’s join-”

He was suddenly engulfed by a side hug, and almost dropped his lunch bag, while Phichit seemed to be offered the same treatment because he yelped as his tray dangerously wavered. 

“Ah Yuuri! I’ve missed you!” a warm and cheery voice exclaimed, very close to his ear. 

“Chris, what the hell are you doing!” They were released, which enabled them to turn towards the blond, looking at them only a little apologetically. 

“I want you both to eat with me today!” 

Yuuri and Phichit exchanged a glance, not exactly certain what had brought about that sudden burst of affection. Sure, Chris was most of the time overly affectionate and awfully overwhelming; in a good way to be sure, he wouldn’t hurt a fly but it was definitely not the peace and quiet Yuuri had hoped for at lunch after having to deal with Viktor following him in the hallway all morning. 

“Aren’t you eating with Viktor and the rest?” Phichit asked instead. 

“Yes, but I want to eat with you too! It’s been a while!” he retorted, decisively looping his arms around their neck again. Yuuri wiggled out of his hold half snorting. 

He knew what Chris had in mind and he wasn’t just about to give him the opportunity to fish out information.

“No thanks, we’re already going to eat with Yuuko and-”

“They can join! Hey, Takeshi, you guys come eat with us too!” 

How did he have an answer to everything like that? He hoped none of them would budge, but that was forgetting Chris and Emil were quite good friends since middle school, and Chris and Takeshi from even earlier than that. And since Yuuko wasn’t going to go from eating with four of her friends, to being left alone at the table, she moved along. 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath but it seemed like he didn’t have a choice but to follow. 

The table Chris led them to, was already full with people, and they had set up a second one next to the first to accommodate everyone. Georgi and his girlfriend, Anya, were there, along with JJ, Viktor, and a couple of other students Yuuri didn’t know. Viktor’s eyes popped out at seeing Yuuri sit down with all of them, and JJ didn’t hide his smirk, nor his urge to comment but with all the noise they all made, it seemed he didn’t have the opportunity to actually do so. 

Yuuri saw how Yuuko deflated upon seeing Georgi being all over Anya, disclaiming his love and how perfect she was. He couldn’t help but stare at Anya, eyes slightly narrowed as if that would help him figure something out. Anything really, about the potential relation between her and Bogdan. He turned around when he heard Yuuko. 

“I’m gonna lose it,” she complained, “he’s been doing that since this morning. Yuuri, I share two classes in a row with him, kill me now?” 

“I’d rather not,” he was quick to say, feeling sorry at how miserable she looked. 

That was the moment Georgi decided to give her another reason to lose it.

“Oh Anya Bogdanova Dvornikova is the most perfect being on this earth and everyone shall revere her!” he clamored with a particularly high pitched melodramatic tone. 

She looked like she had heard that so much that she seemed to consider it was her birth right, almost being condescending to Georgi as he said it, like royalty would to a servant.

In any other circumstances, Yuuri would have winced at how ridiculous the declaration was, and his face would have looked just as comical as the others did right now. But he couldn’t help but have all his thoughts sucked around Anya’s name. He let out a breath, trying to not dwell on it and, turning his gaze away, he smiled as he noticed how Chris rolled his eyes playfully, although Yuuri noticed he was half-serious.

“Georgi if your goal is to knock us all out verbally, please continue.” His tone didn’t leave any doubts on his real meaning, and Georgi shut up, Anya sparing a second to throw a glare in Chris’s direction at being deprived from the attention shower. 

As he slowly stopped focusing on Anya’s name, Yuuri could understand what Yuuko had meant earlier about Georgi’s extravagance. And actually she was staring at him right now, her head resting in the palm of her hand and tilted in his direction, shaking it as if to say “see how badly I suffered.” 

It tugged a small smile on Yuuri’s lips, as he knew that if she could, she would have rambled about how much she hated Anya for being the brunette version of Regina George and how Georgi deserved much better.

She and Mila weren’t bad in mimicking her whenever she would annoy them, and despite Yuuko now being harsh on how stupid Georgi was being, Yuuri knew it was mostly out of affection for their friend. They used to all hang out together constantly as children, and Georgi was indeed a great guy and Yuuri didn’t quite get how he could bring himself to disclaim in such a passionate way the entire name of someone as cold and un-empathetic as Anya. 

Pulling him out of his thoughts, his phone rang loudly enough to create a small bubble of sudden quiet among the group. 

“Hello?” he answered quickly, and his face lightened up, unconsciously looking for Viktor’s face. “Yes this is Earl.”

Viktor immediately straightened up, knowing full well what the name meant for he’d photocopied the ads five times the day before. 

Beyond Viktor and Phichit, who were the only one who understood, those who had heard it probably thought he sounded completely crazy. JJ doubled over in laughter while Chris stared at him like he’d smoked something he shouldn't have, and Yuuko almost choked up on her drink at the name and the silly tone he’d just used. 

Despite all of this, it barely took any effort to stay in the persona. He’d never been bad at it, and he pretty much had spent the first months working with his father doing mostly that. 

“Wonderful! Yes the reward is still a thousand dollar. How about this afternoon? Huuum I'll send my brother to meet you,” he said levelling a glance at Phichit who quirked an eyebrow, amused. “Dog beach, 3 o'clock? Perfect! Thanks bye-bye." 

“What in the world was that?” Yuuko laughed.

“Oh you haven’t heard?” Phichit asked sarcastically, but winced when he received Yuuri’s elbow in his rib. 

It didn’t escape Chris, and he leaned forward, setting his chin on his clasped hands.   
“What haven’t we heard?” he said lacing his voice with voluptuous edges. 

Phichit swallowed nervously, his earlier outburst of confidence popping up with Yuuri’s silent warning. Even though keeping that a secret now was as meaningful as covering oneself from the rain after having been swimming, he still wouldn’t be the one - nor let Phichit be the one - to spill the beans. Especially if he read Viktor’s face correctly, and he hadn’t said anything even to Chris. For what reason, it was anyone’s guess. 

He was actually being particularly quiet and if Yuuri had to guess, it was mostly out of his unwillingness to allow the curiosity renewed by Yuuri’s phone call, show through on his features, and betray himself before Chris. 

Since Yuuri had just finished his bento, he used it as a distraction to move away from the conversation. 

“We actually need to go, are you coming Phich?” he said, standing up and Phichit was prompt to follow suit. He desperately wanted to move away from Chris’s heavy and inquisitive gaze, and Yuuri just had provided him with the golden opportunity to do so. 

As they quickly said bye to Yuuko and the rest, they started walking towards the parking lot, before hearing running behind them. 

“Yuuri wait!” 

He turned around, only to see Viktor finishing running the couple of meters that still separated them. He didn’t even need two seconds to breathe before he rushed to say, “I’m coming.” 

“Oh no, you’re not,” Yuuri retorted, his tone cutting. 

“I thought we’d already had that conversation,” Viktor said his voice controlled and face neutral if not for the storm his eyes held. “I want to be involved in whatever you do to get her back; that’s part of it, and I am coming!”

Yuuri took a few steps forward with each words, getting closer to Viktor.

“I know we have, and I’m not backing out on that promise. But think for a second; if I’m right and this is some kind of organized stealing contest, the person we’re off to meet might – and Viktor, yes ‘might’ not ‘will-be-for-absolute-certainty – be the one who took Makka. Don’t you think they’ll know there’s something up if they see you waiting to get a dog that is clearly not yours back?” 

Viktor’s demeanor seemed to falter somewhat, and Yuuri knew he had won. There was no way around it, it was a simple precaution and Viktor couldn’t do anyhow else but to see it. 

“So Phichit is coming with me, and I’ll update you on everything that happens.” 

He swiveled around, and joined Phichit who had been eyeing both of them from a distance, and fell into step with Yuuri when he prompted him to. They hadn’t even walked three meters that Viktor had caught up, and was walking beside Yuuri. 

He halted his steps again, levelling a questioning glance at him with his lips pursed. 

“What? You said Phichit was gonna be the one receiving the dog; I can still stay in the car!” 

Yuuri’s shoulders deflated. Oh boy… He rolled his eyes but didn’t add anything, and instead walked faster that he had before, forcing the two others to speed up their pace to keep up. 

“That was passionate,” Phichit whispered to him with a teasing gleam in his eyes. 

“You’re right I passionately hate him,” Yuuri retorted, his own whisper not taking anything away from the vehement tone he used. 

“You don’t hate him.” 

Yuuri threw a side glance to Phichit at that. His tone was assured, as if he was stating a millennium old truth. Yuuri turned his head back forward, the words sinking in slowly but surely. 

No he didn’t hate him. But what else was he supposed to feel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you liked it! I'm particularly enjoying writing Viktor and Yuuri's interactions, and I hope it came across well! :D


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for information sake, part of what's happening in this chapter is heavily inspired by the VM episode! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Yuuri was observing from afar, Vicchan on a leash, while Phichit was casually pacing on the turf, a yellowish envelope in his hand, which hopefully would be assumed to contain the promised reward. 

Yuuri had explained to Phichit that the only thing he had to do was to wait until whoever would show up – if indeed someone showed up – preferably with the dog, and make the exchange. As far as the person knew, this was Earl’s brother and Yuuri had no doubt they would play the part of the nice benevolent rescuer of the lost puppy. Yuuri’s role would come pretty much right after, and everything was already set up in his mind. 

He couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed over the silver-head now casually sitting in his car, waiting for everything to be over so he could be pulled in the loop. What annoyed him the most was probably that he didn’t blame Viktor for insisting the way he had. It was Makka they were talking about, and considering what had happened to Yun, Yuuri at the nagging impression this whole ordeal was connected. Viktor probably had the same intuition, and if Yun’s death hadn’t been accidental, perhaps they could try and prevent anything from happening to Makka before it was too late. 

What he hated the most was how complicated it was to sort out his thoughts about Viktor, and this whole situation for that matter. It was the first time he was spending this much time with Viktor since 7th grade, and there were moments where Viktor was unknowingly showing him facets of himself that Yuuri hadn’t anticipated. It kept sending him right into a wall. One time Viktor was this arrogant jerk Yuuri had since long determined he was, and at other times, he could see glimpses of Viktor that he hadn’t known were there. He hated that he was paying attention to them, and he hated that it didn’t leave him entirely indifferent. 

Tugging him out of his thoughts, a white van pulled off right next to the turf, and as soon as it stopped, a man in his mid-fifties emerged out. Yuuri was quick to take note of the plate number before he couldn’t see it anymore before the van left just as fast as it’d arrived.   
He returned his attention to the man who was approaching Phichit after his friend had waved at him. He was wearing cheap clothing, nothing out of the ordinary and following a small dog on a leash. 

Bingo. 

Phichit acted exactly as planned, pretended to be overjoyed at seeing the dog back and Yuuri thanked the deities for not making the small teckel growl at a stranger petting them. They made the exchange and Phichit made his way to his own car, ready to deliver the teckel back to his owners. Yuuri didn’t waste time, needing to act before the man looked into the envelope and discovered the money wasn’t there. 

Yuuri had squat down next to Vicchan, and had already given him a quick order before Phichit had even left the man’s side, before he released the collar from the leash. 

His dog was perfectly trained and despite his small size, he could be quite frightening on occasions, which was exactly what they needed right now. He didn’t doubt that this would work, but he couldn’t help the faint trepidation buzzing in the pit of his stomach regardless. 

As soon as he was released, Vicchan took off in the man’s direction, and jumped on him. The man was completely taken off guard, and lost his balance, collapsing in surprise, and screaming with Vicchan tugging on his shoe growling. 

Yuuri arrived running, leaning down towards them pretending to restrain the poodle, and helping the man. 

“Shush, Vicchan stop! Leave the poor man!” 

He scrambled back up with Yuuri’s help, panting, pointing at his shoe in frantic gestures. 

Yuuri took it back from Vicchan, refraining from petting the poodle who actually looked quite proud at himself now.

“He just ran from me that's so weird, sorry." 

The man didn’t answer and simply made a beeline to the opposite side of the turf with his shoe clenched against his chest, worriedly looking back at the dog who was now strangely quiet, happily waving his tail. 

Yuuri smiled. Tag, you're on. 

Yuuri went back to his old LeBaron quickly, and took out the GPS just as quickly. Viktor didn’t comment, but intently followed Yuuri’s movements. Yuuri instinctively tilted the device a little so that Viktor could see it too. 

The red dot moving across the small screen confirmed the small plotter was well in place and operational. 

“I take it, it worked,” Viktor said as he was leaning forward, and Yuuri could hear the smile in his tone. 

“Yup,” he said popping the p, and unable to contain his own smile. 

Not that he had had any doubts about the quality of the device or his intervention, but seeing it first hand, was very satisfactory. Now it was time to play follow the dog thief. 

The drive was relatively quiet, but Yuuri noticed how it wasn’t in an uncomfortable heavy way like he’d feared it would be and his earlier frustration melted away. In fact, while he focused on the road, Viktor would hold the GPS and indicate when to turn. He wouldn’t deny it was nice to have a co-pilot for once, and he found that the fact it was Viktor didn’t actually bother him. 

He pulled off outside the fences of a timber factory, but stayed in the car a little to assess what he was seeing. He cut the engine and looked at the group of men standing right outside one of the buildings. 

He couldn’t tell whether they were the one stealing the dogs or not, but he didn’t want to take the chance of one of them recognizing Viktor if that was the case. He knew that Viktor would protest as soon as he’d ask but perhaps instead of ordering he should try suggesting it, or at least give him an explanation. 

He turned to his co-pilot, and Viktor trained his eyes away from the group and to Yuuri. 

“I think you should stay here, if they are responsible and they recognize you it would destroy all our chances to find Makka.”

Viktor didn’t argue like Yuuri had expected him to, instead nodding, his face trusting and neutral. 

Ok, note to self, Yuuri should start with asking instead of ordering, it seemed to work out pretty well. 

He left the car, making sure he took out the small object he could predict would likely be necessary from his bag before he did so, feeling Viktor’s questioning gaze on him. He hadn’t made three steps inside the perimeter that the man of earlier was pointing at him, yelling.

"You, ¡dame mi dinero para llevar al otro hombre!

Oh… crap. 

Yuuri had taken French, not Spanish and the only words he knew were all closely related to “tequila”. 

"You steal dogs?” he asked levelling a glance at the man, remarkably pretending he didn’t notice how a bunch of other workers were all surrounding him now. 

“No no no, no stealing” the man exclaimed, his hands frantically waving in front of him while they all started to scream over each other in a particularly messy mix of unintelligible protests in spanglish.

Alright then, time to the international language of compressed air klaxons. He took it out of his pocket and broke through the yelling with an obnoxiously loud honking that shut everyone up in a concert of “Dios mío”. 

“Ok now, who stole the dogs?” Yuuri asked emphatically. 

They all looked at each other, and understanding seemed to gain them. The man who’d delivered the dog was the one who spoke first, nudging his co-workers. 

“El hombre de los perros!”

“Wha- a Dog man? Does he drive a white van?”

“Si, si el hombre de los perros a veces nos contrata!” 

Thank god for the resemblance between French and Spanish and for the fact that he wasn’t a total failure in the language. 

“Do you know his name? Hum… su nombre?"

Another man answered this time. “No pero tiene un van así con una muchacha bien-” and the last words were drowned in laughers and exclamations as the man who just spoke suggestively represented a woman with big breasts. 

Sure, let’s play dirty charades. The first man went over a wooden trestle, as one would do with a horse, making a show of spatting the back of the fake horse eliciting more laughs. 

Yeah sure, perfect; now, that was incredibly useful. 

“Ok, hum, muchas gracias,” he said more on a questioning tone than anything else, and started turning around when the man extended his hand in Yuuri’s direction. 

“No está illegal, solo trabajamos si?” he said, turning to his co-workers who all excitedly acknowledged his words. 

So there’s a man who hire these guys to return dogs; he drives a white van, or maybe a white horse, and he likes to spank busty women, he summed up to himself. Basically, that was half of the male population of the city.

“So? What did they say? Are they the one taking the dogs?” Viktor pressed as soon as Yuuri had been within talking distance of the car.

He took the time to sit down first, and to close the door. 

“Nope, apparently not.”

Viktor took an appalled expression. “What? But how can you be sure?” 

“They gave me indication on who it was that actually hires them to bring the dogs back; I doubt they would have done it if it wasn’t true; and besides, I’m going to check the plate number of the van that dropped off the man earlier. If it links it to him, I will know he lied, and it won’t be too hard to find him again.”

He looked at Viktor, and saw how the cogs were working in his mind. His brows were drawn together in thought, and he seemed to weight the pros and cons of what Yuuri was saying. 

Yuuri was waiting for him to fight him on it again, as he seemed to have taken the habit to do whenever Yuuri was saying something, but apparently this time he didn’t feel like it, because he simply breathed out a slightly reluctant “ok”, before twisting his upper body back to lean against the leather seat. 

Yuuri stared at him for a few additional seconds, expecting him to retract from this seemingly willing agreement, but Viktor didn’t. He simply turned his head to Yuuri when he noticed the car wasn’t being started and gave him an inquisitive look that shook Yuuri out of his staring. 

To that, Yuuri simply moved them out of there, and drove them directly back downtown. He wanted to go and check the police station, in order to obtain a name or any useful information based on the plate. He knew someone there that could help him without asking questions. She was an old friend of Mari, and she used to insist on including him in all their games when they were kids. 

He was simply hoping she would be there that day. He had no idea about her schedule or even if she was still affected to that station. She had wanted to be transferred if he recalled correctly, but he wasn’t sure whether she had indeed started the administrative procedures for it. 

“So what’s next?” Viktor finally asked as they approached the station. 

“I was thinking of dropping by the sheriff station to get an ID behind the plate of the van, it will go faster than if I do it myself since the software changed and I don’t have access to it anymore.”

“You have access to the Sheriff Department license plate data base?” 

“No I just told you, it changed. And computer science isn’t exactly my field of predilection so I couldn’t crack it,” Yuuri answered casually, keeping his eyes trained on the road. 

His words were followed by a silent he only noticed after a couple of minutes passed without Viktor batting an eye. He risked a quick glance to his side, only to see Viktor staring at him in an expression he couldn’t exactly take the time to examine. The little he saw however, was how Viktor’s features had morphed into something of astounded awe that resembled slightly the one he harbored after Yuuri had snapped at Michel. Before he could ask what had gotten into him, Viktor spoke first, taking him a little aback. 

“You know what?” he said with an edge to his voice Yuuri didn’t identify before he saw the smile on Viktor’s lips. “I’m starting to believe your reputation does you justice.” 

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh at the spontaneity of the comment. “My reputation?”

Viktor hummed surely. “Don’t tell me you are oblivious to it, are you?”

“Oh no, I’m very well aware of it, I just don’t pay attention to what people say anymore.” 

Even if he had meant the comment to be light-hearted, he himself had not anticipated the bitter edge it took at the end. Yuuri had the suspicion they both had come to the same conclusions. He knew, and Viktor probably surmised as much, when he’d started to guard himself from other people, keeping them at bay. It had taken a while for him to open up again, even with his closest friends and even then Phichit was the only one he was comfortable with talking about anything related to his doubts or occasional surge of insecurities. 

He realized he needed to speak about something else fast or the atmosphere in the car would become quite awkward. 

“In any case, in the unfortunate eventuality in which I can’t get it done at the sheriff's department, I know someone I could ask to for help. He’s in the same grade as my cousin, and a really good guy.”

He wasn’t too sure why he as sharing all of this information, since it wasn’t really needed, but he absolutely wanted to divert the discussion away from his unfortunate slip up. 

“I’ll stay in the car if you don’t mind,” Viktor declared. 

Yuuri frowned. “Why? I thought you wanted to be on every step from now on?” he added with a teasing edge to his voice. 

“I do, but I told you I don’t like the Sheriff department, so I’d rather not spend time there.” 

Yuuri didn’t know what to say to that. He’d meant the comment to be light-hearted, but Viktor’s own voice had something serious to it that he couldn’t quite place. He recalled that Viktor had mentioned his dislike for the Station, but not if he had said why. He felt the familiar curiosity flutter in his stomach, but also had the intuition Viktor wouldn’t talk about it. 

He couldn’t help but dwell on the weirdness of Viktor’s categorical refusal to deal with the sheriff department. First for Makkachin, then this? It didn’t exactly make sense. Sure, half of the department were incompetents, but that shouldn’t be a good enough reason to keep at bay when necessary, now should it?

For a second he considered being the respectful kind of person that knows how to take a clue and avoid asking embarrassing questions. But he realized he was a little too curious, and surely he didn’t care enough to curb it. Besides, knowing Viktor, he’d simply lash out if he didn’t want to answer, so he shouldn’t care. Right? 

Now that he considered it though, despite all the bickering that had occurred between them since Viktor came to him for help, the thought of putting an end to their…partnership, didn’t even cross Yuuri’s mind. Of course, he knew why, he wanted to find Makkachin perhaps just as much as Viktor did, but even then, it didn’t mean he should have to endure Viktor’s presence so much, and yet he did, unwilling to leave him completely out to deal with it on his own. 

Ok maybe he did care a little then. He still wanted to know though and the words were out of his mouth before he could think of stopping them. 

“Why?”

Viktor didn’t lash out. He casually shrugged, lips pursed in a nonchalant pout. 

“Nothing important.” 

Yuuri refrained from scoffing. Viktor’s face screamed it was anything but. He allowed Viktor a few seconds of basking into the illusion of thinking he’d fooled Yuuri, before he destroyed it, not unkindly. 

“You know you are a terrible liar, right?” 

It wasn’t an accusation, and he didn’t put any sarcastic edge into his voice either. It was a simple comment, not pressure to admit his real reasons. 

“Or maybe you’re just that good at knowing when people lie,” Viktor retorted on the same tone. 

Yuuri let the words sink in, and as he looked back through the windshield, he didn’t repress the small smile curling his lips. 

***

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Yuuri told Viktor as he closed the door of the car, his bag on his shoulder. He received a tense nod in response, and swiveled around to climb up the few stairs leading to the door.

As he entered, he looked around to see if he could spot Mari’s friend, before having to formally ask. She didn’t seem to be there though, and he went straight to the vacant front desk, with the sign “in break” propped up on it. 

Typical, he thought bitterly but unsurprised. 

He climbed up on his tip toe, and leaned over the small counter to look behind it, and smiled as he spotted what he was looking for. He took the small bell from beneath a bunch of papers, and placed it back up on the counter, before absolutely not refraining and absolutely taking immense satisfaction in ringing it in the loudest way possible, making everyone in the station flinch at the shrill sound. 

He heard the grumbling of someone who had gotten up from a chair further back where he couldn’t see, and emerging from the corner of the wall was JJ, standing in a uniform and sleepy eyes. 

Of fucking course. 

He’d forgotten JJ had started working there part-time a couple of months ago. He wanted to convince himself he didn’t have to remember anything about this obnoxious moron, but in hindsight he knew that if he had, it would have saved him what he knew would be a painfully annoying encounter. 

JJ blanked when he saw Yuuri, halting in his step for barely a moment, before he took back his usual lofty attitude. 

Yuuri graced him with an icy impish smile, doing his best to resist the urge and torturing him with whimsical requests he didn’t need in addition to his more serious one. 

“Katsuki, what owes us the unfortunate displeasure of your visit? Oh hang on, my apologies, should I call you Earl?” 

Yuuri didn’t lose his demeanor; they could be two playing that game. 

“Which ever you want, I know you won’t be able to remember both at the same time.” 

JJ didn’t even flinch, the comment simply slipping off his skin. He had such a confidence in himself, that he couldn’t care less about what others thought and said. Well, that’s at least something he could respect, if Yuuri could forget the insufferable show of that confidence. 

“Too kind, I’ll remember Earl then!” he exclaimed with a smug on his face. 

Gosh how he hated that expression. 

“Good for you,” he started and paused, staring at JJ like he was gauging him. “You know you’re like that giant jackass piñata, begging for someone to beat the candy out of you,” he added, his tone overly cheerful and mockingly affectionate. “Now can you make yourself useful for once and do the job you’re actually paid for?”

JJ leaned over the desk, his face a few inches from Yuuri’s, his eyes scrutinizing his expression like he would be able to read the answer. 

“Better idea, why don’t you explain what the hell you’re doing with Viktor?” 

Wow ok, that wasn’t a 180 at all. Was that all the school could think about? 

“I’d tell you, but a) it’s none of your business, and b) it’s none of your business.” 

JJ barely reacted to the blatant lack of disrespect Yuuri was proud of instead of ashamed, and it didn’t deter him from continuing his pointless interrogation. 

“Why does he follow _you_ around since last week?” he pressed, his voice dripping with arrogance as he emphasized on the pronoun. 

“Why do _you_ follow him since seventh grade?” Yuuri shot back on the same tone, cocking his head to the side. 

JJ straightened back up, seemingly upset his questions weren’t met with answers.   
“I asked you a question, first!”

“Yes, I ignored it and moved on, keep up!” Yuuri deadpanned, snapping his fingers twice close to JJ’s face. 

Surprisingly enough, JJ’s stance suddenly changed, his whole body tensing up, and Yuuri frowned when he saw his eyes darkening somewhat. 

“I don’t know what the hell you want from him, but you should stay away,” he said with a low voice, almost threatening. 

Wowow, what? Yuuri would have snorted out loud to the blatant accusation if he hadn’t been so shocked. 

_He_ was the one who should stay away?

“Are you on crack or have you always been this crazy?”

JJ slammed the palm of his hand on the desk, and Yuuri couldn’t help but flinch at the sudden outburst. 

“I’m serious Katsuki, stop giving me crap! You can act all tough and all, but stop pretending like you’re the good guy! It’s your fault if-”

“What’s going on?”

They both snapped their head around at the voice, and Yuuri’s eyes fell on Viktor’s form, warily eyeing them both as he stepped in the station slowly, his gaze flickering between him and JJ as if he was trying to piece them out. 

Apparently, Yuuri wasn’t the only one taken aback, because JJ blanked alongside him, and Yuuri had to slap himself inwardly to register he was supposed to answer. 

“Oh the usual, JJ being the sweetheart angel everyone loves.”

JJ shot him a death glare, and Yuuri could swear it rivaled even Yuri’s best. JJ didn’t waste too much time on trying to visually kill Yuuri, and instead turned his attention to Viktor, who was still waiting for an answer, eyeing each of them in turn. 

“Viktor, can you explain what the hell is going on with Katsuki?” he called out, his voice still stern but slowly subduing. 

Oh for the love of– , seriously! Yuuri should make a public disclosure of their whereabouts, maybe that would calm them all. Why was that the focus of their lives? Stupid question. People at Hasetsu High lived for gossip. Didn’t make it any less annoying though. 

“His name is Yuuri,” he heard Viktor retorted. Yuuri’s breath caught and his heart clenched in his chest. Imperceptible for the others, but damn obvious to him, and he wished he could have slapped himself for the reaction. 

JJ scoffed mockingly. 

“Oh really? Since when hah?”

“Since he’s helping me find my dog that’s been missing for a week.”

Yuuri’s eyes popped out at the confession, and apparently he wasn't the only one not having expected that on Viktor’s part. 

JJ’s mouth fell open, dumbfounded, and his features coated themselves with an expression of remorse, apologies and utter surprise. 

On the other hand, Viktor didn’t seem phased by what he’d just said. He’d kept that a secret even from Chris, and now he was revealing it to JJ in the middle of the police station. Just like that?

He had claimed barely fifteen minutes prior that he didn’t like that place, and he’d always shown signs of unwillingness to let others know the reason he was requesting Yuuri’s help. Why was he suddenly breaching his own two wishes, just to snub JJ? 

His mind was fighting him to bring in his input on the matter, but Yuuri really didn’t want to think about it now. The only logical explanation was closely related to Yuuri being verbally attacked by the still dumbfounded idiot over there, and he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around it. If anyone had told him that Viktor Nikiforov would actually jump in at the rescue, he’d probably recommended them to an asylum or laugh at their face. But there Viktor was, looking at JJ with an unattached and neutral expression, that screamed louder than if he’d been angry. 

One part of him wanted to be mad at Viktor for intervening, and thinking he needed help in the first place. Who did he think he was, really? He’d made it clear he didn’t want to be a friend to Yuuri back then, and now he was acting all protective over him? What the hell? 

He couldn’t completely shut up the other part of his brain that had since this all started been so prompt in making him think about all the small details about Viktor that didn’t fit with his evil-filter impression of him he’d so carefully crafted, and was now begging Yuuri to just be grateful for it, if not to enjoy it. 

That said a lot on how monumentally things had changed in the span of a few days. Now that Yuuri allowed himself to think about it, or rather was pressured by his unfaithful brain, and  
he was just becoming aware of just how much. And he wasn’t sure he liked where it was going. 

Perhaps Phichit’s warnings and Minami’s concerns weren’t completely off-target. 

“Yuuri let’s go.” 

_Did he just got ordered around and actually obeyed without protesting?_ was the thought that crossed his mind when he found himself outside the station after having quietly followed Viktor out. 

He snapped out of his trance and caught up with Viktor who was walking a few steps ahead of him. He wasn’t sure exactly how to bring up the topic. He was aware of being vaguely annoyed of being stripped away from his dignity to fend for himself, but it wasn’t strong enough for him to want to lash out or anything. And now that they were out of the station, he noticed how tense Viktor was, and how his jaw clenched. What for exactly, Yuuri wasn’t sure, but the fact remained and he didn’t want to unnerve Viktor. 

He waited for them to be seating in the car before he twisted himself in Viktor’s direction, observing him for a few seconds, expecting him to look at him eventually. When it was clear he wouldn’t, Yuuri cleared his throat, effectively tugging Viktor’s attention on him, before he asked carefully, “Viktor, what was that?”

Viktor looked taken aback by the question. His eyelids fluttered as if he didn’t understand what Yuuri was asking, staring at him with a blank expression. 

“In there, why did you intervene?”

“Weren't you aware he was insulting you?”

Yuuri blinked, dumbfounded at the protectiveness he heard behind the sarcastic tone. 

“Aren’t you aware it’s nothing I’m not used to? Or that I do the same myself to him in return?”   
He swallowed before adding, “or that it’s what you usually do too?”

He said it because it was true. And even if it seemed they were in a period of truce on that particular aspect of their relationship, he still couldn't overlook that fact if he wanted to understand why Viktor was acting weird. 

Viktor looked like he’d taken a punch in the gut, his posture deflating and exhaling out a large gulp of air. His gaze fell from Yuuri’s face, and glued itself to the floor of the car. His head was tilted down, and he looked like he’d been drained of his energy. 

Yuuri watched a little confused, and slightly worried. He extended his hand gingerly, as if he wasn’t sure himself of what he was doing. He was barely a few centimeters away from Viktor’s shoulder when he snapped out of it, and twisted his upper body back in its initial position. 

“You know what, I’m gonna walk,” Viktor finally said after a painfully silent moment. 

Yuuri gasped. “Wait what? Why, I can just drop you off-“ 

“No thank you but I could really use the walk.” 

Yuuri was astounded. Where did that come from now? Had Viktor taken his words this hard? They both new how true they were and neither had ever hid from their reality. So what the hell? 

At this point, Yuuri wasn’t sure whether he was overthinking or if he was simply getting crazy, but regardless he was at a loss for what to do. 

He had a dozens of questions and Viktor didn’t seem ready to answer any of them. He hated how much he cared was becoming clearer each time something like that happened. 

Barely a week ago, the peace of mind of Viktor wouldn’t have mattered to him in the least. 

That definitely annoyed him. A lot. Because it was simply another point on the “I’m confused” list he was drafting since this whole thing started. But it wasn’t his main concern at the moment. 

Viktor had already opened the door, and was pushing himself up to get out of the car. 

Yuuri signed but refrained from intervening. After all what could he do? They weren’t even that far from the school anyway. 

He felt like he was losing himself in this pushing and pulling game Viktor seemed to be an adept of, and Phichit’s warning, Minami’s concerns and to some extent his father’s – even if he didn’t quite understand what had brought this one on – kept swirling in his mind like a nagging reminder of just how idiotic he was acting. 

There wasn’t any denying he cared, but it was the ‘why he cared’ that troubled him. Despite what Viktor had done, he still wanted to… what, hope? Hope that there was a chance for their friendship to resume? Yuuri closed his eyes slowly at that thought, unsure how to process it. 

Viktor didn’t even look back, his gaze in fact seeming lost into something no one could see, and he closed the door without a word. 

Yuuri stayed there, immobile with one hand on the wheel and the other propped up on the passenger’s seat. He watched Viktor as he was crossing the street carefully, his form despondent. Yuuri finally dropped his arm from the seat, sitting back straight, after Viktor disappeared behind the corner of a street. 

His eyes fell on his lap for a few moments, his mind blank and not quite able to shake the feeling of confusion off yet. He took out his phone, deciding to contact Leo right away to get a hold on a name for the plate. That was something productive he needed in order to get his mind far away from anything involving his frustration in trying to understand what Viktor was thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? :D   
> I hope you enjoyed the Viktor-Yuuri duo and things are really starting to get confusing for Yuuri... 
> 
> Here are the Spanish translations: 
> 
> ¡dame mi dinero para llevar al otro hombre! : Give me the money to bring to the other man.   
> Dios mío: Oh my God  
> El hombre de los perros: the man with the dogs   
> Si, si el hombre de los perros a veces nos contrata: Yes, the man with the dogs sometimes hires us  
> No pero tiene un van así con una muchacha bien-: No but he has a van with a woman well-  
> No está illegal, solo trabajamos si: It's not illegal, we're just working right?
> 
> I've learned Spanish long enough that it should be correct, but you know, mistakes happen so don't hesitate to tell me if I did make some.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, may I just say that all your comments have made my days (yes plural)! Each time I received one, I was nearly jumping up and down like an excited five-year-old. So thank you so so so so much for your appreciation of this story, it makes me incredibly happy! <3
> 
> On this note, here's chapter 11! It's a pretty lengthy chapter, and I hope you like it! :D Enjoy!

Yuuri went straight to the office after quickly sending his message out to Leo. He arrived quickly, the drive passing by in a blur as he didn’t even have to think to follow the directions. He was vaguely aware that he was spending way too much time there, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. At least he didn’t have to worry about who’d be awarded employee of the month. And he being in fact the only employee didn’t have anything to do with that. 

As he walked in the main room of their office, it was obvious his father was on the phone, and Yuuri paused. It sounded like a rather heated conversation from what he could hear coming out from the half-closed door of his father’s section. He stayed there, silent for a moment, not willing to alert his father that he’d arrived, as curiosity was already spiking. He couldn’t help but let a small frown on his face. It was rare for his father to ever raise his voice, and he initially felt a little worried before realizing that his dad didn’t sound particularly angry. 

Yuuri turned his head towards the door, frown deepening, as he heard the tinges of panic behind the otherwise controlled voice of his dad. He couldn’t discern exactly what was being said, but that tone alone told him a lot. His father rarely panicked. 

Mindful of his steps, he approached the door, extending his neck out in the hope that he’ll see his father before the man could spot him so that Yuuri could backtrack if necessary. 

Was he keen on eavesdropping on his dad in an obviously private and important conversation? Absolutely. Was he keen on getting caught eavesdropping on his dad in an obviously private and important conversation? Absolutely not. 

From the small opening, he caught sight of his dad, his back turned to him. He was standing tall, the hand clutching the phone rather high and the other hand on his hip. He had discarded his suit jacket, and the sleeves of his shirt were folded up. 

“How can you explain years of absence? Do you have any idea of the mess you left behind?” 

Yuuri frowned. What the hell was this about? He surreptitiously moved closer, very much intrigued. After a few seconds of silence, his father sighed and his shoulders dropped a little, suddenly looking very tired. 

“There’s nothing I can say that would make you change your mind is there?”

He had absolutely no clue what that was about, but it didn’t sound very good in his opinion. As he stepped just a little too close, he made one of the wooden battens produce a horrifyingly shrilling sound and he cringed at the same time as his father swiveled around.

In a nick of time, Yuuri managed to straighten up and look the picture of innocence. He smiled at his father as if he had come in normally. 

Except, he didn’t receive a smile back, and that just confirmed a growing suspicion that something about this conversation wasn’t right. 

“Give me a second,” his dad said in the phone before turning back to him. “Hey Yuu, I wasn’t expecting you today?”

Really? The “I wasn’t expecting you” excuse? His father sounded worried too. What the bloody hell was going on? 

He shrugged, nonchalantly pursing his lips. “Yeah I needed something to busy my mind with.”

At least he wasn’t lying this time. 

“I just thought that working on a case was a good way to do that.”

“Right,” was all his father said. “Well no problem, but can you close the door please, this is an important client.”

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah sure no problem,” he answered with a very small smile as he desperately tried to hide his disappointment. The door was too thick for him to hear anything that will come out of his father’s mouth anymore. He resigned himself though and did as told. 

He circled the desk and went to sit just as he heard footsteps stomping on the wooden floor. He didn’t look right away, first dropping his bag next to him. He had grabbed the edge of the desk to bring his chair closer, when he lifted his head to welcome the likely new client, but his breath unintentionally hitch as he laid his eyes on who exactly had come in. 

His eyes were as big as saucers, and he needed a little more time than he would have liked to be able to erase the surprise on his face upon seeing the one and only Anatoly Nikiforov towering him with all his height. He was accompanied by another man, who Yuuri had to assume was an associate of some sort, short of any other indication pointing to another direction. And besides, his attention was entirely focused on the one person he hadn’t thought he’d ever see again. Not that he had ever wanted to. 

The look Yuuri was graced with wasn’t exactly warm. In fact it was borderline dismissive, and Yuuri didn’t miss the snarky smirk playing on the man’s lips. 

And to think he had considered Viktor could be rude. Compared to his old man, Viktor was the most charming choirboy of the entire Christian faith. 

It had been such a long time since Yuuri had seen the man, and he couldn’t help but be stricken as he glanced at the man’s eyes. Crystal blue. Exactly like Viktor’s. 

He looked away for less than a second, blinking away the surprise. It was the only resemblance though. For the rest, it was mostly Yurio that Yuuri could see in the man’s features. Their hair was the same color too, besides the fact that Yuri wore his shoulder’s length and most of the time unkempt while the Nikiforov patriarch had slicked his short blond hair back. Yurio had never transpired this much contempt either.

In fact, neither had Viktor. 

Steeling himself, Yuuri rose his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side, his smile forced politeness. “Can I help you?” He was not particularly pleased at being looked down upon in such a way. 

“No I don’t think so,” the man said promptly in a stern voice full of disdain as he looked Yuuri up and down. Yuuri resisted the urge to cringe but couldn’t help that his smile straining a little. “I’d rather speak with your father.”

Yuuri had to do everything he could not to react at the way Nikiforov almost spat the word “father”, beyond his eyes narrowing subtly. He had to swallow down the “dickhead” that was burning his tongue before speaking again with a calm tone. 

“I’m afraid he isn’t available at the moment, can I take a message?”

Anatoly stayed silent for what felt like eternity, but Yuuri didn’t waver and his look stayed dead set in what looked so much like Viktor’s eyes. Anatoly lifted one eyebrow and huffed dismissingly. 

“It’s important,” he said as if that solved it all. 

Yuuri stared at him a few seconds, a smile still in place, before he leaned over the desk slightly, his hands crossing in front of him on the surface. 

“I’m sure it is, but he is, unfortunately, still unavailable. I can either take a message or I’m afraid you’ll have to come back.”

His father was on the phone, dealing something important enough that Yuuri knew he would not be disturbed until he was done. That gave him enough confidence to push and have the last word in this argument. He wasn’t at all comfortable in the other men’ presence though, and noticing how Anatoly’s look visibly darkened as the man propped his hands flat on the desk did nothing to help him on the matter. He had never liked that man, even as a child. He still recalled the look he had been addressed that day, before Viktor rejected him so violently. Anatoly Nikiforov, dropping his sons to school, had addressed him the coldest look Yuuri had ever been on the receiving end of, and he had been shocked speechless and terrified.

Nikiforov brought his face dangerously close to Yuuri’s, who couldn’t do anything but subtly scout back and this time there wasn’t any smile covering up the earlier rudeness. 

“I’ll tell you what kid. You may pretend to be the smartest and toughest around all you want, but don’t get ahead of yourself. You would risk burning your wings.”

Yuuri frowned. That didn’t sound like a simple warning and the clear smirk on the man’s lips as he swallowed made him look like a shark. And a nasty one at that. 

“Oh sure you’re the big guy at recess, knowing how to dig dirt on everyone, and using it to obtain what you want. Yeah,” he paused, giving Yuuri a meaningful look. “I know all about your exploits. But you know what kid? It’s just high school. Don’t think that the world out there will ever be as indulgent as your sandpit battles. I wouldn’t play smart ass with me if I were you, little Katsuki.”

Anatoly had gotten even closer, and Yuuri would be blatantly lying if he said he wasn’t getting scared. He hadn’t even noticed the associate closing in and putting a hand on Anatoly’s shoulder, and he flinched upon hearing the warning in the other man’s voice. 

“Mister Nikiforov.” 

The older man clenched his jaw, offering a strained smile that was anything but genuine. He chuckled dryly, straightening back up and away from Yuuri who was only now realizing he’d been holding his breath. 

“What’s up kiddo? Not as tough as you’d like to believe now, are we?”

“Anatoly I believe that’s enough.”

Yuuri startled violently, head swirling around to the door he hadn’t noticed open, revealing his father in the doorway. And he was pissed. He was harboring his ever-calm demeanor, but Yuuri knew from one glance that his father was more than angry. 

“I believe your son here,” Anatoly spat with a nudge towards Yuuri who glared, “told me you were busy.” 

“And I am. Also, I’ll ask you to come back at another time, or to give me a call.”

Yuuri felt trapped in the middle of a ring between two pissed off bulls as the two men faced each other, both with hostile looks in their eyes. He waited with baited breath, unable to move.

Finally, Anatoly huffed as his expression had turned from sour to outright angry. “I’ll come back soon.”

His father smiled sternly. “Good choice,” he simply said, receiving a deadly glare in return. 

Yuuri looked up as the Nikiforov patriarch turned his attention back on him, staring down on him again with a whole new level of disdain. “You’re just a kid, don’t forget that,” he simply said, the words printing themselves in Yuuri’s mind, full of the threat they really were and it was only when Anatoly swiveled around and left, followed by his associate that Yuuri finally released a staggered breath. 

The pointed look he had thrown Yuuri on his way out had made his skin crawl. Something was off, and Yuuri couldn’t quite place it. 

“How long was he there for?” 

Yuuri looked over to his father, swallowing to calm himself down. “I don’t know, a few minutes probably.” He brought his hand over to his forehead, rubbing the back of it over his eyes. 

“What did he say?”

Yuuri sighed, feeling a new wave of anger washing over him now that the object of his fright was gone. Damn that man was a dickhead. 

“Empty threats mostly, he tried to humiliate me or make me scared I don’t know… I guess he didn’t appreciate the fact that I basically told him to piss off.”

His father deadpanned. “You told Anatoly Nikiforov to piss off?”

Yuuri breathed out a chuckle at the expression. “Not in so many words, but I told him you were busy, and when he insisted, I didn’t relent. I don’t think he’s used to people saying no to him.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” his father mumbled as he rolled his eyes. “Don’t go out of your way to go face him again though.”

“What? Why would I do tha-“

“Because I know you, and if he insulted you, you’re not gonna want to stand for it, so you’ll go after him with some bullshit reason to confront him about it.” 

Yuuri opened his mouth, ready to protest, but nothing came and it made the meaningful look of his dad all the more meaningful. He vaguely grumbled under his dad’s light smile. 

Yuuri was the first to break the silence. 

“Who was it on the phone earlier?” he asked softly levelling a glance to his father, who he saw freeze for barely an instant. He looked over Yuuri carefully for a while, not saying anything and Yuuri could only wait. 

“What did you hear?” 

Yuuri’s eyebrows twitched and he looked down, thinking back, before meeting his dad’s gaze once more. “Not much, I just heard something about years of absence?”

His father inhaled sharply, eyelids fluttering shut as he looked to the side. His mouth opened, jaw working as he considered his words. For once Yuuri didn’t press. He didn’t feel like it, and he stayed silent. Eventually his dad sighed. 

“I’ll tell you eventually. I can’t for now,” he said, voice soft. “Can you keep it at that?” 

Yuuri only stared back, blinking as he nodded in acceptance. Good enough for now. 

He turned to his desk as his dad swiveled around. 

“You’re gonna be ok though, right? After _that_?”

Yuuri’s eyes snapped up, and he frowned in surprise at the question. His brain caught up to what topic they were one. Even though his father was nearly expressionless, he could recognize it as a telltale that he was hiding his worry at Yuuri’s mental state. 

“Yeah,” he said, smiling reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

His father nodded, looking at him a second longer than he usually would and went back in his office, not closing the door this time. 

Yuuri sighed, trying to understand what the hell had just happened. Sure, Anatoly Nikiforov had never been his favorite person, but what had just happened was way passed that. He’d literally come barging in and demanded to see his father with barely any politeness to sugar coat it, and then acted out like some defensive dog. 

Although he had thought that it had been the resemblance to Yurio and… well and the eyes that had thrown him off, he realized now that it was nothing more than the vindictive attitude. 

For a second, the disdain glaring in those blue eyes the same way it had so many years ago in Viktor’s had indeed startled him, bringing him back to that day for a second. But on hindsight, he realized that it wasn’t the same at all. 

Viktor’s eyes had never been that cold. 

He shook his head, trying to dispel the earlier encounter. He looked down at his desk as if it held all the answers to the thousands of questions he’d been compiling recently, but quickly found that it was no use. His mind kept wandering and the unease of Anatoly’s presence didn’t seem to abate. 

Making a minute decision, he rose from his chair and waved at his dad who was one again on the phone. He didn’t miss the subtle frown, but he dismissed him with a smile, leaving before his father could think of stopping him. 

He did say that he’d be ok, but at that specific moment, he felt restless. 

Anatoly Nikiforov’s warning made absolutely no sense, and despite it all, it had scared him more than he could say. He was probably just tired. 

That, at least, would make sense, right? Who else would have reacted better? He was tired, emotionally drained, and permanently stressed, who could blame him? 

He went to his car, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at his own pathetic attempt to make excuses. He turned the contact as soon as he had buckled up and didn’t waste longer in leaving the parking spot. 

He needed an outlet, and he needed it now. Minako was back in town, which meant he could run by the studio real quick to blow off some steam. It was starting to get too much too fast. 

When he’d agreed on helping Viktor, he knew it wouldn’t be a walk in the park, but he hadn’t planned on all those little things adding up around it. The Sulliman case was only this one big thing that he kept worrying over, to which he now had to add the overthinking of his and Viktor’s relationship (or lack thereof, whichever worked best depending on the day), the worrying over not finding Makka and that of knowing he couldn’t do anything to help Seung-Gil, along with his total confusion regarding what he was feeling about every single one of these things. 

And now, Anatoly Nikiforov, who he hadn’t seen in more than five years, showed up in his dad’s office like a peacock throwing threats for absolutely no reason. 

Now _that_ wasn’t a problem related to his lack of sleep, and before his thoughts started spiraling out of control, he needed to let it all go. It had been a while since he needed it, but it had always helped. It had been a week of a never-ending cycle of stress, and Nikiforov’s barging was the match threatening to make it all explode. 

He’d always had spikes of anxiety, but it had never been unmanageable as a child. It was mostly due to the stress of messing up, and the weight of feeling worthless that would come with it.

It had never gotten to the point where it would impact him on a daily basis, and he had his family helping whenever he felt the anxiety crawling back. Cooking with his grand-mother, gardening with his mother, playing puzzles with his father and charades with his grand-father, going along with Mari to play football with her friends, playing with Minami. 

And Viktor. As a child, he used to have Viktor, and the silver-head never even had to try, his presence being enough. He sighed, trying to dispel the thought. 

He checked under the door mat in front of Minako’s door, and sure enough he found the spare key. He smiled as he opened the door, thankful that she was always thinking of his comfort. 

He paused as he stepped inside. Standing in the quiet studio left him an odd sense of hollowness, the silence seemed to taunt him, giving space for his thoughts to crown him even more and he clenched his teeth at that, annoyed. It seemed that he had overestimated his ability to handle everything at once. The self-admission left a sour after-taste in his mouth, but he left it at that. The week had been taxing, and he should have recognized earlier that he would likely need an outlet sooner or later. 

He closed his eyes, breathing in and out deeply. His anxiety had been manageable as a child sure, but since Viktor and he had fallen out, and as annoying as it was to have to recognize it, it was often an itch under his skin he had to desperately relieve on a regular basis. In the months that followed that day, he had gone through massive panic attacks, to the point that he had to be put under medication for a few years. They weren’t like the small ones he occasionally experienced before final exams as a child, but those that made him feel like he were dying due to the lack of air in your lungs. Those that made his head spin, and his chest hurt, and his entirely body trembling.

He sighed, shaking his head as he went to let all his stuff down on the floor, and took off his sweater. He grabbed the small bag from the locker Minako always left available for him, where he kept clean spares of dance clothes. Opening it, he grabbed the pair of legging and promptly changed.

Being mindful of his breathing, he plugged in his Ipod playing a random song from his punchy playlist. He tipped his head both sides slowly, rolling his shoulders, and loosening his muscles slowly. 

He had managed to tone it down after a while. The medication had helped with the symptoms, and going to see a psychologist for a few years had allowed him to progressively control the anxiety better. She hadn’t been entirely pleased with him as he pushed what she called an ‘avoidance tactic’ to the next level. A while after Viktor had pushed him, he had grown detached from a lot of things, even many of his friends. He swallowed as Minami’s outburst last weekend came to mind at the thought. 

He sighed, raising both arms over his head, linking his hands as he extended his spine to the ceiling, breathing deeply in. He exhaled as he slowly folded himself in two, hands pressing flat on the floor, chest touching his knees. 

It had made things somewhat easier, closing off. He was losing himself and he had needed that time. After that though, he had toughened up, not letting anything affect him as much as what Viktor did affected him. Everything else after that had been easier to deal with. He could still be a little anxious before tests, but who wasn’t? He hadn’t had a panic attack in three years. 

He straightened back up, and repeated the movement several times before going through additional stretches, wanting to make sure his muscles were loose enough to avoid injuring himself. 

But now, helping Viktor meant spending time with him. Phichit had asked if he was ok with that. He thought he would be. 

And to be entirely honest, he was. It wasn’t all glitter and unicorns but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he had feared it would be. But apparently, their relationship wasn’t as linearly easy as he’d thought. There was more to Viktor than he had ever wanted to admit since 7th grade; there was still stuff he couldn’t understand, behaviors he couldn’t explain and that was enough for tinges of doubts, wrapped in anxiety to come flaring back. 

It was kind of understandable in a way, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

The interesting thing about that, was that he realized he wasn’t angry at _Viktor_ for it. Upset, sure. But deep down he knew it was somewhat unfair, and irrational. He was just projecting his frustration on him. He tightened his jaw, annoyed. 

He spun around, before launching himself into an energetic grand jeté. 

It used to be relatively simple. Viktor had hurt him; then he ignored him like Yuuri was invisible and as if their friendship had never happened. Yuuri had progressively become indifferent, and had stopped caring. He would stand up for himself if a contemptuous comment was thrown his way, and would give back as much as he got. 

See? Simple. Not caring meant no hurt. It had worked out. Somewhat. 

He aggressively attacked a pirouette, spinning fast and hard. 

Fine, maybe not as great as he had thought it had even a week ago. If there was at least one thing that he was sure about in this whole mess, was that the “not caring” part was not exactly on point. 

He really didn’t know what to do, or if there was anything to do really. Maybe he should just find Makkachin, and then go back to how things were, when it was way simpler. Upon coming out of the spins, he came to the realization that perhaps that was the issue. 

Things could never go back to the way they were because now he had witnessed things that made him doubt about his own perception in the past years. He’d been hammering that truth a while: things had never been quite as simple as he had deemed them to be, and it was the time spent with Viktor that was showing him that. 

He knew that something was off, he just couldn’t figure out in what way. 

And again, when confused, he pushed the worries back as best he could. He didn’t have Phichit right there and now, but dancing would get the job more than well done. So Yuuri threw himself in the music entirely, giving himself up to the pounding beat, echoing against the walls and enveloping him in a bubble of sound. He moved, and spun, and jumped, and lost himself entirely.

By the third song, his muscles were starting to burn from the exertion. He hadn’t stopped, moving frantically along with the music, unable to even pause for a second, afraid it would resume the swirling of thoughts. 

When the frantic rhythm ended, he slowed down his movements careful not to stop too abruptly after the fast-paced workout he just pulled off. 

As his breathing settled down, he tilted his head back and forth and then to the side as he stretched his arms and shoulders. Dropping down to the floor, he brought his legs into a pretzel, pushing his knees down and leaning forward slowly. 

He was feeling much better now that he had danced it off. Granted, he didn’t manage to find an answer to any of his doubts about whatever was going on, but at least now he wasn’t feeling like his head was threatening to pop. He sighed deeply, trying to shake off the weird creeping feeling that was keen on annoying him. It truly had been a long time since he had last felt anxious, and it was unnerving to experience it again. 

Upon checking his phone, he realized more time had passed than he initially thought. Sighing he gathered his stuff, and decided to call it a day. 

****

Upon returning home, he decided to go by the inn to bid goodnight to his grandparents and his mother, who were all very likely still working. 

“Ah Yuu-chan you’re home!” 

He smiled to his grandfather, who was currently going in direction of the onsen. 

“Yes finally, it was a long day!” he joked, knowing theirs probably was just as full, if not more. 

His grandfather chuckled, patting Yuuri’s head the same way he used to when he was younger.

“I’m glad your arms haven’t fallen off from Saturday,” he said with a cheeky smile, and Yuuri couldn’t help but pouting his lips at the affectionate banter. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence!” he said with a small smile. 

His grandfather stared at him as his eyebrows shot up, and Yuuri was unable to really tell if he was being serious or not. “Oh but I did believe in you! Just not in your arms.”

Yuuri let out a small chuckle at the ridiculous joke, and his grandfather smiled once more, his usual warm eyes shining with affection. “Thank you for coming to say good night Yuuchan,” he said, patting his cheek. “Your mother and grandmother are both in the den; there are still quite a lot of customers,” he then added. 

Yuuri turned his head on instinct in the direction he was indicated. He smiled gently, and kissed his grandfather on the cheek. 

“Thank you Jiichan.”

He made his way down the hall and to the den, giving polite nods as he passed by some of the regulars. There were really only his grandparents he would call by their native tongue honorific. They had been born in Japan and were mostly speaking Japanese between themselves. His mother was born there too, but had left at a relatively early age. It had left her very americanized and although she made a point to speak Japanese just as much as English at home, Yuuri and Mari had never taken the habit to refer to either of their parents by anything other than Mom or Dad when they were speaking English. 

“Oh Yuu-“ his mother started.

But she was interrupted by his grandmother, emerging from the kitchen with the most atrocious apron Yuuri had ever seen, and a spatula in hand. She was standing with her hands on her hips and her eyes riveted to Yuuri with a mischievous smile. 

“It’s about time! I haven’t seen you in a week, I thought you’d disappeared! Would have been ironic for a private investigator!” 

Yuuri faked a gasp as he approached her, then breaking into a wide smile. She was the best example of a child in an adult’s body. She was the very definition of impish, laughing crinkles bordering her eyes at all times, while her brown irises shone an all-knowing playful gleam. She’d never minced her words but they were always spoken out of love and concern. Mari was very much like her. 

She smiled widely at him when he bent down to take her in his arms. She patted his back twice, chuckling a little. 

“There there, you tall thing; I have a job to do!” 

Yuuri released her, and she turned around on her heels, disappearing behind the curtain of the kitchen. His mother had been standing next to the opening, watching them with an amused but unsurprised expression. 

He gave her a kiss and left the room to go back to their house. 

It was located half on top of the inn, and juxtaposed to it, but they had to take a different entrance from the inn. It hadn’t been their choice to design it this way, but they had figured it was just as well to preserve their work and private life somewhat separated. 

Even though Yuuri’s brain seemed to have rewired itself to only think about how his bed was waiting for him, he noticed how an unfamiliar car was parked next to his. He stopped in his track, staring at the vehicle with a tired expression. Was it there when he’d arrived? If so, he must have been more exhausted that he initially thought if he had passed by it without even noticing it. 

He blinked away the thought, instead simply went to turn around the corner of the inn in order to get to their house. He closed his eyes as he walked, stretching his neck a little and confident he’ll know when to climb up the few stairs leading to the porch. Maybe he’d overdone it a little at the studio, he probably should have stopped before his legs started shaking so much. 

He heard shuffling as he approached and confused, he reopened his eyes promptly, only to see Viktor just standing up from in front of the door, and he jumped out of his skin. 

“What the f…” he muttered half under his breath in surprise. This guy really had a habit of giving him heart attacks. 

At Viktor’s sudden apparition, his brain immediately compared him with the man who’d come to the office earlier. And he’d been right. They may have had the same eye color Viktor’s eyes were nothing like his father’s. The contrast was now obvious, and he didn’t quite understand why that thought made him feel better. 

“Sorry,” Viktor hastily blurted out, as he shuffled from foot to foot, wringing his hands together. “I just…”

Yuuri quirked an eyebrow, expecting another fantasist request from the silver-headed. It was kind of ironic too, that the very person he had tried to escape as he danced earlier was the one to find him now. 

He wasn’t quite as wary as he’d been the previous times Viktor had stood in front of him like that, struggling with finding his words. He was surely getting used to it, and a sassy voice in his head made him wonder if it was a good thing or not. 

“Can I talk to you?” 

Yuuri blinked. “Weren't you about to do just that?” he blurted out. 

“Ah hum, yes obviously, but I was wondering if we could talk about it inside.”

Yuuri quickly decided that if he wanted to go to sleep and forget all about that brilliantly messed up day, he really ought to skip the “protesting” part and directly jump to “agreeing”. 

Besides, Viktor looked eaten with the weight of whatever was on his mind, and Yuuri really didn’t have the heart to refuse him the space and time he needed to get it off his chest. 

Funny how he was getting used to that kind of weird requests from the silver-head. Sure, he was probably tired right now, and he might have protested more, had he had a few more hours of sleep under his belt, but it was still amusing to see that even after being confronted to Viktor’s father, and despite all their history, he wasn’t particularly against Viktor coming in and talking to him. 

So he indicated his agreement by a wide gesture of his arm in the direction of the door, and Viktor breathed out, and finally stopped balancing his weight from one side to the other. Yuuri climbed up the stairs a little heavily, and produced the keys. 

Before long he was leading Viktor down the hallway and to his room. His father’s words resonating in his minds, Yuuri decided it was better to not stall in the living room with the very person his dad had asked him to stay away from when the man would come home. 

He’d barely pushed the door that Vicchan had jumped on him, tongue lolling out and barking in happiness. Yuuri smiled, kneeling down somewhat in order to kiss and hug him. The small poodle was over-excited to see him, and it warmed Yuuri’s heart. 

Yuuri went to his room with the little poodle circling around his legs excitedly, half jumping half trotting, occasionally barking. Yuuri allowed himself to fall on the bed in a very ungraceful manner, but he couldn't have cared less. It was comfy and warm and even if he couldn’t be tucked under the covers at that precise moment, this was the next best thing. 

Viktor followed him in the cozy room, and Yuuri kept his eyes on him as Viktor’s gaze was glancing everywhere at once. Yuuri could see how he was trying to take everything in and he supposed that Viktor was comparing how things had changed in the room. How a bigger desk had been installed, or how posters had changed over time. It felt a little weird to have Viktor back in this room after such a long time. The last time he’d come here, they had been much younger and everything had been much simpler.

Viktor’s eyes finally fell next to the little dog, and something of an infinite softness settled on his features. As he knelt down next to Vicchan, he smiled softly at the small poodle. He made to pet the little dog, presenting his hand instead of making any brusque gestures. Even though they’d spend their childhood with both poodles, Viktor had not seen Vicchan in quite a while, and there wasn’t any guarantee the dog would react well. Vicchan didn’t seem to care about the precautions, since he immediately leaned into Viktor’s palm, japping happily. 

“Hello you,” Viktor cooed just as he smile grew bigger. “Long time no see hah? I’ve missed you too, oh yes I did!”

He started laughing when the poodle half jumped on him. 

Yuuri couldn’t do anything but stare at the scene, an unexpected smile setting slowly on his lips as he took in the meeting between the two. Well, that was something he thought he’d never see. 

Viktor seemed to realize Yuuri was staring at him, because he met his gaze, pushing Vicchan gently in order to get up. His posture had considerably relaxed compared to when Yuuri had found him in front of the porch, but he was still worrying his lip, and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. 

“You should sit,” Yuuri advised designating the desk chair right behind Viktor. He swiveled around, and hummed a quiet ‘thank you’ as he sat down, clasping his hands together once more. 

He stayed quiet for a little while longer, and this time Yuuri didn’t press. He could see how Viktor was now simply trying to order his thoughts and considering how his eyebrows knitted together, he presumed there was a lot to sort out.

“You remember how I told you how insufferable I had been the last few days? When I came to the office?” Viktor finally asked, his face expectant for Yuuri’s answer. He nodded, waiting for Viktor to continue. “I know I haven’t exactly been acting rationally and to be honest, I’m still trying to sort it all out myself. But after having reacted the way I did at the station, I thought maybe talking about it would help.”

“You mean when you went all knight in a shining armor on me?” Yuuri said and he surprised himself a little when he realized that he couldn’t help the slightly teasing tone. Just to alleviate the tension still pertaining between them. Nothing more. 

It tugged a small smile on Viktor’s lips, and he nodded knowingly. “Yes I know, sorry about that. Not very different from what you did for me with Michel, though,” he added with light teasing gleaming in his eyes. “I think, after everything you’ve been doing for Makka since I’ve asked you for help, I didn’t react well hearing a friend yell at you the way he did.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I know, I know,” he hastily said, frustration crossing his features. “And I know I’m not completely innocent in the matter either. That’s why I left the car, but I guess you understood that.”

“I assumed, but I was more stunned than anything that you suddenly decided to walk. I mean I noticed you were acting strange, and I presumed it was because you walked in the station. By the way, I wanted to ask, why did you do it? You’ve told me yourself you didn’t like the sheriff’s department.”

“I don’t, it’s no big deal, but you were taking more time than I assumed was necessary, so I was wondering what was holding you up.”

Yuuri nodded in understanding although he clearly noticed how Viktor had answered only half of the question, as Viktor leaned back in the chair, preparing to continue. 

“In any case, I needed that walk. I needed to think. When you told me that I was doing the exact same thing as JJ just did most of the time, I felt like I’d been slapped. Because it made me realized that yes, I was acting that way, but it felt surreal at the same time. I had just been outraged by how JJ talked to you, only to be thrown to my face that I was no different. It stung. And the only reason why it stung was because it was true but mostly because I didn’t understand why it bothered me as much as it did.” 

Yuuri’s mind blanked. Viktor’s words were swinging around him, they were pouring out of him like water breaking a dam. Viktor’s face held a whirlwind of emotions, the feelings battling their own right to be there. 

Yuuri was astounded by how raw it looked, how unguarded. Viktor meant everything he’d just said, that he was sure of and even though Yuuri had no idea why he was now sharing this, he still could feel the power that each spoken word held. He couldn’t look away as Viktor was pouring his heart out, and he’d never dreamed in interrupting. It didn’t make it any easier to process the meaning of the words though. 

“I wanted to talk to you about it because it felt unfair. Unfair to you that I’d act that way even though you’ve been helping me without hesitation since I came to ask. I won’t deny that you’ve been the most annoyingly sarcastic ass half the time,” he added the edge of teasing back in his voice and Yuuri quirked an eyebrow at that. “But in any case you’ve been giving it your all and I wanted to apologize.”

Objectively, Yuuri understood what Viktor was saying, but that didn’t help him grasping the reason why he was doing it. 

They had operated on a thin line so far, balancing between keeping their usual attitude on, while not pushing too much for the sake of the investigation. They more than occasionally slipped up, but so far it had worked out. Why did Viktor suddenly feel like he needed to voice all of that? 

“Why are you telling me all this?” he asked. He could feel his face strained under the confused frown that had settled there since Viktor had started to speak. 

Viktor looked up at him in surprise. “I just told you, I didn’t think it was fair-”

“No, I get that. What I don’t understand is why you would feel it’s important to tell me.”

Viktor’s face morphed into an odd mixture of confusion and understanding. His eyebrows knitted together as he stared at Yuuri, dumbfounded. 

“Well I..” he paused, sighing and unable to find his words as he frustratingly bit his lip. 

“I mean, so far it didn’t seem to worry you much. You said it yourself, this is a job. I don’t give up on a job I’ve agreed to take on. Whether it be you or someone else. It’s been working so far, hasn’t it? What makes you think I need to hear an apology now?”

Understanding crossed Viktor’s features, but instead of perking up with another comeback, he deflated somewhat. 

“I can’t bare how this is going anymore,” he lamely blurted out. 

And there it was… Just another exhibit illustrating how in over his head Yuuri was with trying to figure out exactly who the hell was Viktor Nikiforov. 

Yuuri grimaced in confusion. “How it’s going? What are you talking about?”

“How confused I am because you keep shoving into my face evidence that I don’t know you nearly as much as I thought I did. I used to be so angry with you.”

Yuuri’s face fell in shock. What? How did they jump onto that so suddenly? What did it even mean? 

“I used to be so angry all the time, and the only way to cope with it was to act pretty much like JJ was a little earlier. And suddenly, I had to beg you for help.” 

Viktor swallowed, and Yuuri was staring at him blankly, unable to really process everything he was saying, nor his main point, nor all of the implications. 

“I had this image in my mind, of this manipulative, untrustworthy, uncaring and sneaky brat.”

That, Yuuri understood, and he felt his face close off immediately miffed, deadpanning Viktor. Thanks for the brilliantly charming portrait. 

“But then you agreed to help, and you’ve done everything you could, and promised to continue doing the same. When I was a hot mess coming to you, you didn’t hesitate when you pulled me along in the bathroom to avoid the others to see my meltdown, or to snap at Michel for his cruel joke. You didn’t hesitate in any of the steps you’ve taken, you weren’t reluctant to put in all the means and everything you had in helping _me_ , of all people. I couldn’t reconcile that with the image that was so ingrained in my own mind.”

Yuuri felt a knot in his stomach at such words. This sounded awfully familiar to what he had been thinking himself. He had crafted this image of Viktor and had put it on replay constantly until he would be completely convinced and wouldn’t even think about contesting his own self-preservation instinct. He’d been pushed to face the shortcomings of his own carefully crafted perception; between the perfected image of the douchebag he’d portrayed Viktor to be, and the little details that would unravel the entire narrative. 

And that was why he had such trouble coming to terms with the fact that maybe he hadn’t been looking at things properly. 

Perhaps that was what pushed Yuuri to forget asking what had brought about the image Viktor had shaped about him. His own, he deemed entirely deserved, and had been crafted out of desperation to build himself back up. Viktor had been the one to destroy him, Viktor was the one at fault here. 

JJ’s words rang in his head. “Your fault”. What was his fault? Had he done something to Viktor to deserve such portrayal? Was he the reason why Viktor had pushed him so violently? 

“You gave me evidence that maybe I wasn’t completely fair,” Viktor kept going without any idea what turmoil his words were precipitating Yuuri’s thoughts into. “Even though I could read the antipathy radiating off your face at times, you were still there when I was crashing. You say you’d never drop an investigation like that, even if it was for me. But even that was in complete opposition with what I was so convinced of. And when I was met with my own contradictions after what happened at the station, I needed to explain myself. Both for my sake and yours.” 

That was a lot to process. He’d always known there were two sides to each story, and most of the time, people were oblivious to any other but their own. Yuuri on the other hand, had desperately wanted to know what that other side was for so long, but Viktor had never relieved the agony of being left in complete darkness.

Worse, Yuuri had felt like Viktor had relished in it. It had made him bitter over the years, and he could truly understand what Viktor meant by conflicting realities. Yuuri was sure he’d just had a glimpse of what Viktor’s side was, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something wasn’t right. 

Or rather, Viktor hadn’t told him everything. 

He couldn't bring himself to ask though. This was already a little too much to process, and he was entirely sure that learning more would short-circuit his brain. It was as if the dance practice earlier had never even happened. The thoughts were back, and this time it was a little harder because it wasn’t only his own thinking that he had to process. Viktor had just dropped a bomb on him. 

After five years of non-acknowledgment, no-talking and barely any contact whatsoever, it was like Viktor had opened the valve of a dam, and Yuuri was left dealing with the flood. Viktor was showing an entirely new version of what he had believed in during the last five years. 

Instead of falling prey to the spiral his thoughts were dragging him into, he forced himself to breathe out slowly and completely. He needed to calm the hammering mess that his heart had felt the need to turn into, and that was the only way he knew how. 

Viktor had fallen quiet, and when Yuuri lifted his gaze, he seemed to have shrunk in on himself a little, expectantly staring at Yuuri like he was afraid of what he was going to say. 

Yuuri felt compelled to say something, if only to dispel that anguish look on Viktor’s face. But no words were coming, and his own mind was unusually slow in providing him with a quick retort. He blinked away the shock, rather lamely. 

“I’m not sure of what to say,” he tried levelling a glance at Viktor.

“I guess you don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you, and wanted you to hear it.”

_But you’re still not telling me everything. Why? What made you angry?_ Yuuri thought and even in his own head he realized how desperately he still wanted the answer. 

“Well, you told me and I heard it,” he asked instead, opening his arms and then clasping his hands back together as he talked in a false show of bravado. He couldn’t help but notice how the words stung even to his own ears. It hadn’t been his intention to be cold. He could see the effort it had demanded of Viktor to confess this, even if it was only half a truth. But he couldn’t oversee his own confusion now that he’d confessed it.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? Did that change anything? And if so how? Yuuri had questions popping up in his mind, too fast for him to keep track and none of them was anywhere close to receiving any answer. 

“I guess,” Viktor started, bringing Yuuri’s attention back on him. He swallowed before continuing, meeting Yuuri’s eyes once more. “I guess I just wanted to have the opportunity to see how much I got you wrong.” 

Yuuri’s breath caught. What was that supposed to mean? 

“I’m gonna go now, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Wait what? He was going to leave again? What was the deal with Nikiforovs and speaking by enigmas? 

The way he said the last words took Yuuri by surprise. Bare of the previous hesitation, it rang with a certain optimism, as if he had been relieved of an enormous weight. As if he couldn’t wait to see what would happen next. 

How was Yuuri supposed to interpret that? It felt a little like he didn’t have a choice in the matter, and a part of him didn’t like it. But objectively, everything Viktor had said, had been for the sake of apologizing for a behavior Yuuri didn’t know he regretted. 

Viktor got up exhaling deeply, and Yuuri followed the movement with his eyes. There must have been something on his face that told Viktor not to drag it out, because the silver-head pursed his lips for a moment, as if there wasn’t anything else he could do, and nodded in Yuuri’s direction. 

“Good night Yuuri,” he almost whispered. 

Yuuri couldn’t utter a word. He at least managed to get up, and follow him out. Whether this had been a conscious decision or an autopilot maneuver he wasn’t exactly sure, but it really didn’t matter at the moment. 

He felt the contradiction raging inside his head: whether to stop Viktor and demand clearer answers, or let it be for now in favor of resting and thinking about the bomb he’d just dropped on him. 

All things considered, his exhaustion made the decision for him. There was already a lot to think about, and he wasn’t sure that adding another layer of psychological puzzle was the smartest idea. 

Didn’t make it any easier to dampen down the urge to ask though. 

It felt like he’d been cut off in the middle of a sentence, as if there was something waiting for him barely a few centimeters away but he’d been rewound to the starting point. 

Viktor’s confessions had been a lot, to be sure. But they hadn’t been complete. Yuuri could feel it in his gut that something wasn’t right, that he’d omitted bits and pieces. For starters, the “why” that had haunted him long after their friendship had ended. Why had he been mad at Yuuri. Why? That was what Yuuri had been chasing for so long. What had happened that made Viktor reject him so? 

And to be denied the answer now was like a punch in the gut. In what goal had Viktor left without providing further explanation, he really had no idea. Perhaps, and considering how genuine Viktor had been just now, Yuuri supposed it might be something he wasn’t ready to accept himself. 

Yuuri sighed heavily and slumped down in the couch, rolling his head onto the wall. He felt positively drained, but he knew that sleep would be hard to find now that Viktor had poured his heart out. 

Beyond everything else, Viktor’s words were resonating in him like a bell, echoing and undying in his head. 

Both Viktor and him had unknowingly been doing the exact same thing, carefully crafting an image that had been little by little invalidated, or at least been shown all their flaws. What Viktor had not said however, was how he’d come to need one. All these years Yuuri had managed to convince himself that Viktor was the bad guy, the one responsible for his own distress and hate. But apparently he wasn’t entirely right…

Clearly, JJ didn’t agree, and the raw honesty that had coated Viktor’s face earlier seem to agree with JJ. 

He felt both a lump in his throat at the realization that he might have caused just as much harm to Viktor than Viktor had caused him, but at the same time he couldn’t help the bubble of warmth in his stomach coming from the mere thought that perhaps it had all been a misunderstanding, and that perhaps it was still reversible. He sighed, exasperated with himself at how fast he was, again, so readily trying to fix things. 

He propped one foot up on the coffee table, both hands clasped around his knee. 

Truth was, he wasn’t sure of anything regarding where they stood, but if anything, he hoped that it wouldn’t hurt him further. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure and that scared him despite his promise to Phichit and Minami, it was that there wouldn’t be any coming back if he tried to understand, and no turning back if he started to want things to get better. And he could feel curiosity nagging him. Yes, Viktor could be a pain in the ass, but he wasn’t only that –that much was obvious– and Yuuri would be the most pathetic liar if he claimed he didn’t want to try and scratch the surface of that shell. 

The door clicked, and he removed his foot right before his father emerged from behind the door. His father threw him a disabused, glance, knowing full well where his feet had been before he’d opened the door, and Yuuri gave a small smile with heavy-lidded eyes. 

His father sighed as he took off his jacket, and neatly putting it away in the entryway closet. He dropped his keys on the table and turned to Yuuri, his face showing fatigue. 

“Have I seen Viktor Nikiforov’s car leaving our driveway just now?”

Yuuri’s smile fell, and he sighed knowing there wasn’t any way out of this. “He just came for updates on Makka.”

White lie. 

His father quirked an eyebrow, scrutinizing his face for several seconds before humming skeptically. “I told you what I thought about that. And after today I didn’t think you’d want to spend much time with him.”

Yuuri followed him with his eyes as he went to sit in another chair of their living room, looking as exhausted as Yuuri felt. His voice wasn’t accusatory, simply stating a fact. Yuuri knew his father didn’t want to be the kind of dad repeating things over and over, and generally, despite Yuuri’s stubbornness, he listened. Or when he didn’t, it usually was for a very good reason not to. His father knew that, and they trusted each other enough not to usually question each other's behavior at every moment of the day. 

“You did. He simply wanted updates, and I hadn’t replied all day. He simply got anxious.”

That was half true. Viktor had been anxious, simply not about that exactly. His father raised an eyebrow knowingly, humming once more. 

They stayed in a companionable silence for several minutes, until he broke it softly. “I’m gonna go sleep. I’m meeting Hasetsu High’s Principal tomorrow,” he said with playful nudge of the head. 

Yuuri perked up at that, surprised. “You are? Why’s that?” 

His father sighed. “Ah, students keep being diagnosed with medical ailment and the Principal thinks it’s a fraud, he wants me to look into it.” 

“What kind of ailment? Like stress?”

His father brought his hand to his chin in thought. “I think anxiety mostly.” 

“Are you sure they’re faking it though?” 

His father turned to look at him, and Yuuri gave him a knowing look. “I know what anxiety looks like Yuu,” he reminded him with a soft smile. “And I seriously doubt the coincidence of having all students being diagnosed one after the other by the same doctor for fees way far above the regular consultation cost.”

Yeah, fat chance. He rolled his eyes, at the thought of the imbeciles playing with anxiety disorder. 

His father speaking again made him turn his attention back to him. “You seem to be doing well though.” 

He smiled at the concern. Funny he was asking him that, the very day he had to deal with a spike in his otherwise managed anxiety. 

“Yeah, I think I’m too busy to end up stuck in my head anymore,” he joked. That afternoon was just one little peak of anxiety, nothing to worry about. It likely won’t be the last time, and he will deal with it in its own time, just like he did today. 

“Well I guess work has its perks then,” his father breathed out, tired sarcasm dripping his tone before he flashed a smile. “You should go sleep too Yuu, you do look tired.” 

Yuuri thinned his lips in agreement, and gave a small nod for good measure. He stretched his arms in front of him as he got up, trying to relax the fatigue away. “Good night dad.”

“Good night Yuu.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... What did you think? :) 
> 
> Regarding the portrayal of Yuuri's anxiety, I based it off my own and my some of my friends experience; from the anime, I tend to think that a lot of Yuuri's anxiety is coming from a particularly strong streak of perfectionism and imposter syndrome. I could be wrong obviously, but you have my take on it at least :)   
> On that note, if you can, never hesitate to seek help if you think you need it. It was incredibly helpful for me!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for all your brilliant comments <3 I'm really happy you enjoy this story!
> 
> Here's chap 12! Lots of stuff happening in this one! Taken the liberty to borrow funny quotes I found here and there from some tv-shows and even social media because it just fit perfectly with the fic! 
> 
> Enjoy!

“You look like shit.”

Yuuri groaned in response, his upper body splayed out across his table. 

He straightened back up slowly, stretching his back as he went. 

“I think I’m overloading from stress,” he said after yawning, his hands coming up to cover his mouth. 

“You know, I did try a meditation app once,” he said randomly, as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “It actually stressed me out even more. I’m hopeless.” 

“Yes you are, but I love you anyway.” 

Yuuri hummed noncommittally, as if having the confirmation of being hopeless was like saying the sun rose east. 

“I can't decide if I need an XL coffee, a hug, eight shots of vodka, 826 chicken nuggets or two months of sleep, honestly.”

That seemed to spark Phichit back to life – if having the constant energy level of a nuclear reactor was below “life” that is – and he literally snapped his entire body around to face Yuuri, who jumped a little, his eyes popping out from the sudden move and levelling a wary glance at his best friend. 

Oh boy, he didn’t like that look. 

“I have the perfect solution! Actually before my perfect solution, I have another perfect, but simpler solution,” he exclaimed, and made to stand up, approaching with his arms wide to engulf Yuuri in a bear hug for which he wasn’t prepared. 

He broke into laughter, wiggling his way out of Phichit’s arms. “There you go, one hug! If you need any more of those lemme know! Ok next best solution!” 

The distrust that Phichit’s earlier look had inspired him returned tenfold, as his friend tilted his head slightly down, purposely eyeing him with an impish smile and dragging his silence. 

Losing patience, Yuuri playfully rolled his eyes.

“Do I have to tip you over or you're gonna spill it on your own?”

Phichit laughed, giving Yuuri a friendly strike on the arm. 

“There’s my Yuuri back! So, yes my solution! Chris is organizing a party at the end of the week, we’re invited of course, and we’re going.” 

Yuuri deadpanned. “You heard the part where one of my dreams implied two months of sleep right?” 

“I did, and I also heard the part where you talked about eight shots of vodka,” he said it as an evidence, and Yuuri narrowed his eyes. 

“Of course that’s what you heard...”

“And I’m gonna hold you to it! Come on Yuu, this is gonna be great! Stress relief!”

Yuuri laughed drily. “Yeah or a monster headache with a blank spot in my memory.” 

Phichit sighed heavily, rolling his eyes, clearly implying Yuuri was ruining his fun. “I’m not giving you a choice anyway, you’ll come with me even if I have to drag you by the scruff of your neck.” 

Yuuri slumped forward, putting his head back in his folded arms, groaning. He knew there wasn’t any argument that would derive Phichit’s mind away from his newly-made decision. He knew when to recognize defeat, and even if he insisted, it would be utter annihilation. Phichit could be even more persuasive that he was. 

As Phichit busied himself with his notes, he couldn’t help but delving into yet another recycling of his thoughts. After Viktor left the night before he had, unsurprisingly, barely slept. This was becoming a pattern he wasn’t particularly fond of, but at least his lack of falling asleep had helped some. After a while of turning in his bed, head pounding and eyelids heavy but sleep desperately out of reach, an idea had sprung in his mind. 

As for Viktor, he hadn’t seen him yet, and he wasn’t sure how to act when he would. For starters, he was still incredibly confused about what Viktor had told him the night before. But behind the confusion, there was a sense of trepidation and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

He straightened back up when their professor entered. He shook his head to try and dispel the nagging discomfort at being faced with variables he didn’t know how to compute. 

But before he thought about Viktor and how things would change – or not – he had something else he could focus on, thanks to his sleepless night of wondering. The Principal Feltsman had the student registry in his office, which contained all the student – technically personal and confidential and thus not supposed to be access by Yuuri – information. He knew it was a long shot, but he still had no idea how Anya’s middle name factored in the Sulliman case – if it did at all – and not knowing plagued his sanity. Any potential lead he had, he’d gladly follow. 

As soon as the class was over, he went over to the main office, hoping Mister Feltsman wouldn’t be in at the moment.

No one was at the information desk, and he knocked on the Principal’s door. When no one answered, he produced a bunch of keys, warily glancing around, making sure he wouldn’t get spotted, and turned the right one in the lock. 

Yes, he did have a copy of most keys in the school. Admittedly, it might not be the most morally acceptable aspect of his high school life, but in cases like this one, moral considerations really were the least of his priorities. 

He swiftly opened the door, and just as fast he was inside and was shutting the door with enough precautions as to not produce any noise that would alert anyone around. 

Turning around, he took in the room briefly, having been formally asked to be there more than…actually he’d stopped counting, and that was telling in and of itself. He went straight for the metal cabinet behind the Principal’s desk, reaching for the keys, and examining the small ones. The only time where he had to open one of these was when he’d needed to clear Chris’s name when he had failed a drug test before a sport event. Anyone who knew Chris was all too aware than the only drug he could ever be suspected to be taking was sex, and unless Yuuri had really missed something, that couldn't’ be detected with a drug test. 

He ignored the cringing sound of the rack rolling out of the cabinet, raising himself slightly on the edge of his feet to stand on the same level as the open rack and make his search easier.  
He promptly went through the files, thankfully alphabetized, and whispering the name like a mantra until he came across the right one. 

“Ah there you are!” 

He took out the yellowish cardboard file, no dissimilar to the one Minami had given him, and didn’t waste time in opening it, but apparently that was already too long. He distinctly heard voices and steps heading his way behind the door he’d taken the precaution to lock behind him. He didn’t wait until his brain processed the fact that one of the voice was particularly familiar, and instead of even glimpsing behind him to the office door, he made a beeline for the closet next to the desk, sneaking behind the surprisingly large amount of vests and jackets it contained, closing the door at the exact moment the office door opened. He made sure to leave a subtle opening in order to peek outside, and sure enough, his ears hadn’t misled him. 

His father was following principal Feltsman, and Yuuri cursed himself for forgetting that yes, the reason why Feltsman wasn’t in his office when he’d came in, was because he had an appointment with his very own father. The last straw was probably that the man himself had told him not even full twenty four hours earlier. 

“Making progress on the case?” Feltsman asked of his gruff voice, however not unkindly. 

“Slowly,” his father answered truthfully, but Yuuri knew at the tone that it probably meant he was close to finding concrete evidence. 

Feltsman sighed heavily as he sat down in his chair, slumping down as if he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“We’ve had three more cases this week of students diagnosed with general anxiety disorder, you’d think it’s contagious,” he informed, the sarcastic edge fully obvious in his voice. 

“All the concerned students are competing for the municipal scholarship, and all the notes are coming from the same doctor,” his father said, and he received a low grunt of approval in response. 

“My faculty is about to revolt,” Feltsman explained, “they’re supposed to offer these students deadlines extensions, make up dates on exams and unlimited time on test. All at the students’ discretion.” 

“I hope I’ll have something for you very soon,” his father assured. “My coat?” 

Yuuri’s heart missed a bit, just as his eyes widened at the realization of what was about to come. Oh boy… 

“Right, it’s in the closet.”

He retreated back as far as he could, but objectively, the space he’d hidden himself into wasn’t exactly walking-closet size. There wasn’t anywhere he could run off to hide behind, and beyond squatting and pray it’ll make him appear smaller, there wasn’t much he could do. 

Snapping him out of his thoughts even faster than he would have expected, his father opened the door and his eyes immediately fell on Yuuri hunched form. At least his body was hiding the view from Feltsman, and that was already enough to settle Yuuri’s initial start. Just as his face decomposed into the oh so familiar appalled expression, Yuuri silently begged his father for forgiveness. He was almost a hundred percent sure his father wouldn’t out him to Feltsman, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t at the receiving end of a very, very, very pointed look. 

Yuuri was quick to process things however, and he rapidly reached up taking his father’s jacket for him, thinking that perhaps he should have recognized it when he’d hidden in there in the first place, and handed it out to him. 

“Yes,” he finally said, Yuuri’s eyebrows warily shooting up in expectation, “that’s mine alright.” 

Yuuri instinctively released the breath he was very aware he’d been holding in relief, while his father looked at him with exasperation on his features. He rolled his eyes and shut the door, hiding Yuuri once more. 

Well, that had gone well. 

Yuuri couldn’t see much now that the door was fully closed, but he really couldn’t complain. He knew he’d hear about it when he’d get home, or likely later at the office, and truth be told he really hoped that the file he was still holding contained even the most remotely useful piece of information to the Suliman case. It should suffice to appease whatever would come, even though his father was already immune to this kind of stunt. He had tried to do something about it when Yuuri was younger, but if there was anyone to blame really, it was probably himself. Yuuri was acting the exact same way his father had most of his life, and the apple never fell far from the tree. 

The bell signaling the start of the next class after recess shrilled in the school, and Yuuri deflated, his face contorting into a grimace. And one more class missed.

Or maybe not, he suddenly thought as he took out his phone. Making sure it wouldn’t ring unexpectedly, he quickly reached Phichit’s chat and sent a 911 text to his best friend. He didn’t explain any of the details beyond the basic “I’m stuck in Feltsman’s closet please help”, knowing Phichit wouldn’t need any in order to get him out of there. It simply delayed the moment he’d want to hear everything obviously, but understandingly enough, that didn’t matter in the least right at this moment. 

Barely a few seconds after he’d sent the text, a series of sharp noise that Yuuri suspiciously noticed sounded very much like the beginning of “do you want to build a snowman” were knocked on the door of the office. Despite the theatrics, it at least allowed him to be aware of who exactly was knocking at the door. And either his best friend had turned into the Flash without his knowing, or he’d been following Yuuri, because how the hell had he been so fast? If the fact that Phichit was probably just as curious as him meant anything, Yuuri settled for the latter. 

“Come in.”

“Very sorry to bother you sir, but I’ve been asked to tell you that Professor Philip just puked in his classroom,” Phichit informed, his voice a little too cheerful for the lie he was proclaiming. 

Yuuri had to swallow back the snort threatening to out him, but Phichit using Philips with such a shameless excuse was too good for him not to make a mental note to thank his friend later for the entertainment. 

He heard Feltsman sighing heavily, and proceeding to get out of the office. If his slow steps were of any indication, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the prospect of facing a puking Philips. Yuuri had to bite his lips at the thought that both men would end up having to clear up the misunderstanding in front of the students. 

They better make sure that their professor never found out they had a role to play in this, or else Yuuri would probably never see the end of the detention that will inevitably come his way. 

The door hadn’t even closed, that he received a thumbs up emoji from Phichit. Yuuri smiled down at his phone before shoving it in his jeans pocket, crouched back up slowly, trying to make sure he didn’t ruffle the clothes around him too loudly. Just as carefully, he opened the door a few centimeters, and picked outside quickly, before leaving his hiding and closed the door behind him. 

He opened the file without wasting any more time. Whatever information was good to take. With a little luck, it’d tell him something that could potentially allow him to verify if there was a relationship between the interest of their case and the venomous queen of his school. 

Maybe the emergency contact list. He glanced over the file with a practiced accuracy, and sure enough his eyes fell on what he was looking for. His eyes popped out at the sight. 

He first saw her mother’s name, but then for her father, it wasn’t what he had expected to see. “Bogdan (Andrei) Vadimovich Dvornikov” associated the address “bogdan.v.dvornikov@gmail.com.” 

Alright, what? Did that mean that Andrei was a borrowed name to be used in public, and his birth name was indeed Bogdan? But then why did nothing come up when he had searched on it? He decided not to dwell on the matter too long, he had no idea when the Principal would come back. 

He’d need to photocopy this. His father would believe him of course, but he’d need something more consistent than his trust in Yuuri’s word to be able to convince anyone else. Yuuri was very confused as to what implications this could lead to, and perhaps his father knew more about this. Scratch that, his father definitely knew more about this, but Yuuri could bet he hadn’t made the connection between the famous CEO and the case. Maybe he should thank Georgi for being so obnoxiously loud in his love proclamations.  
Numerous copy machines could be found outside the office, being close to both the administrative wing and the teachers lounge. He strode over to the first one he saw when he left the office, all the while making sure no one was looking around to see him inconspicuously leaving an office he wasn’t supposed to be in in the first place. 

As he opened the cap of the machine, he frowned upon seeing a paper that had been forgotten. He reached out, and an amused grin settled immediately on his face when he realized what it was. If there was ever a teacher that could forget an exam template in a copy machine that was available to the students, Philips would never come to his mind, even though he was all for stating how incompetent the teacher was. Which meant that it probably was the doing of a student that thought stealing exams was a smart way to get better grades. 

Without dwelling too much on it, he put it down for a second, thinking he’d deal with it when he wasn’t holding a stolen personal file of another student, right outside the Principal’s office. Most students were in class, a few might be walking around but technically he should be good. He swiftly photocopied the page he was interested in, and put it back in his backpack just as fast, schooling himself not to look around like a skittish dear. It would have been the surest way to advertise to everyone passing by what he was doing. 

He did make sure he glanced back before reentering the office again though. When he left he remembered not to close the door since Feltsman hadn’t done so himself. He had barely set a foot out, that the emergency alarm blared in his ears, making him wince. 

What in the world was that about? For a second, he thought that maybe Phichit had done it to extend the time Feltsman had to be away from his office, but he dismissed the thought as he was convinced that his friend would have informed him. He picked up the exam as he passed by the machine again, and as he proceeded to step out the central offices space he barely avoided slamming into both Viktor and Chris. 

“Wow,” he exclaimed as his heart missed a beat in surprise, “what are you doing?” 

Yuuri narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he saw how excited they both looked. Viktor was nearly bouncing, grinning like a crazy person, while Chris harbored a somewhat more contained pride. At the sight, Yuuri dreaded the answer. What in the world had they done? 

“We came to save you!” Viktor exclaimed.

Yuuri quirked an eyebrow. “Hah?”

He turned to Chris as he shifted his weight on his other hip, “We bumped into Phichit as he was following Feltsman out of here, and he filled us in,” he said, just as Viktor nodded excitedly. 

Yuuri had to stifle a laugh at the sight, Viktor truly looking like a five year old on Christmas morning. The least he could say, was that Viktor truly took to heart what he’d confessed the night before. He seemed very intent on being open to whatever their cooperation would lead to. Even if Yuuri’s doubts still lingered, especially considering he knew full well Viktor hadn’t told him everything, he’d never deny it was a nice change. 

“Right,” he simply settled on, his eyes flickering between the two, knowing a small smile was flickering on his lips. “Thank you, but we really need to get out of here or we have 99% chance of getting busted.”

The both nodded silently. Well as much as Viktor’s excitement allowed anyway. Yuuri pursed his lips as they didn’t move, simply looking at him expectantly. 

“Let’s move then,” he added, staring them down in disbelief. 

“Oh yeah right!” Viktor said as he swiveled around, Chris on his heels. Yuuri followed them, very aware of the actual smile his expression harbored now, feeling grateful they both helped without even knowing what for. 

Well, the smile was there up until JJ appeared as they turned the corner of another hallway. 

“Where were you guys, I was looking for-” he cut short abruptly upon seeing Yuuri who didn’t flinch one bit, and he could swear a flash of guilt crossed JJ’s face. 

That wasn’t something he could hope to often see, and it surprised him somewhat. Yuuri figured he probably reacted a little hard to Viktor’s snappish intervention the day before. Viktor didn’t seem to hold whatever happened as a reason to be mad at his friend longer than necessary however, because he replied without a single ounce of hesitation in his voice.

“We went to find Yuuri on Phichit’s demand,” he explained evasively, his tone still bearing the lingering excited notes of earlier. 

JJ looked a little surprised at the information, but it seemed all his ability to form words had flown out the window because for once he didn’t retort anything. 

“Yuuri!” 

Yuuri snapped his head around at his name being called, his eyes falling on a running Phichit. Yuuri took a step back, unwilling to be the instrument of Phichit’s crashing stop. He reached his hands out automatically, Phichit supporting his weight by holding his forearms as he tried to find his breath. 

“Good or bad news first?” he started, but didn’t wait for Yuuri’s answer. “I managed to drown the fish about your involvement, or mine, in accusing Philips of puking his guts out, but they may or may not be coming our way-”

They all looked up as a low voice boomed in the hallway.  
“Mister Chulanont!” 

The Principal was walking fast and behind him, ridiculously skipping to keep up with the energetic pace of Feltsman was Philips. Feltsman slowed down in his tracks upon seeing them all there, standing in the hallway in the middle of an alleged fire alarm emergency. His face contorted into a barely contained ire, and Yuuri noticed how dangerously close the vein on his forehead was to pop. 

“Can any of you give me at least one good reason as to why this one,” he pointed at Phichit who was still panting and relying on Yuuri’s arm, “ran off like a madman, and why all of you are standing here like idiots?” 

There were several answers Yuuri could have blurted out, but Phichit beat him to it. 

“I wanted to make sure he was safe!” he exclaimed, with a not exactly faked distressed expression. He was still so rattled from his racing through the hallway that his scrunched up expression could very well be confused with worry. 

Felstman didn’t even have the patience of quirking a skeptical eyebrow, but he did look fuming. Phichit and Yuuri were known to be tied to the hip all over school, but Feltsman wasn’t exactly the most gullible man on the planet. 

“There’s an alarm ringing, you wshoul have waited for him outside!”

“But what if he had had an accident in walking down the stairs! Panic can be mortal!” he passionately yelled. 

Yuuri had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid laughing, and he prayed to whoever was up there that neither Chris, JJ or Viktor would out them by bursting out laughing. Despite the ridiculousness of the argument, it wouldn’t help their case. It seemed they had all reined themselves however, and no one pipe out a word. 

The Principal rolled back his eyes in exasperation over the theatrics, while Philips was still recuperating from his brisk walk. It seemed that something tugged Feltsman’s attention away from Phichit as he levelled a glare at the rest of them. Knowing what was coming, Yuuri wracked his brain to find a plausible excuse. 

“It seems however that mister Chulanont’s concern wasn’t entirely unfounded,” he told them, his tone laced with warning. “What on earth are you four doing there, ten minutes after the alarm started ringing?” 

“Viktor fell in the stairs, and we just waited for him,” Yuuri bullshitted, his face willed into an as close as genuine expression as he could. He just hoped Feltsman wasn’t aware of the gossips of the school, or else and despite the recent developments, pretending that Viktor and Yuuri were friends might be hard to convince him of. 

He almost smiled when he saw Viktor immediately taking in his words, as he exaggerated subtly how his weight was all resting on one of his leg. It seemed like he’d learned not to flinch at Yuuri’s excuses. 

“I twisted my ankle,” he added, sounding just as genuinely as Yuuri had. “I don’t think it’s a sprain, but it still hurts.”

Deciding on a whim that changing the topic of the conversation could likely be in their advantage, Yuuri pushed Phichit gently to get his hands free, and extended the paper he’d found earlier in the machine. 

“I found this is in a copy-machine before the alarm rang,” he said, looking at Philips and doing his very best not to smirk.

Philips knitted his eyebrows, and took the page in his face. His face was quick to scrunch up in a mixture of confusion and anger. 

“That’s my exam, where did you find that?” 

“In a copy-machine?” Yuuri answered, dragging each syllable and giving an exaggerated baffled look to Philips. He leaned to the closest body next to him, not really caring who it was and added, loud enough for all of them to hear although he pretended to whisper, “am I still speaking English?” 

Some giggles met his question, and he had a hard time pretending he wasn’t happy with himself at how Philips’s shoulder slumped down and how the man shot him a glare. 

“Can you answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm?” he snarled, with a dark look. 

Yuuri raised his eyebrows daringly. “Sure if you can ask without the usual level of stupid.”

Without surprise, Phichit smirked knowingly, but the rest broke down into hardly contained laughter. Yuuri did notice how Feltsman’s lips curled up almost inconspicuously at the comment. 

He levelled his challenging gaze back at a fuming Philips over the blatant lack of disrespect, but he couldn’t care less. Feltsman’s reaction was proof enough nothing would come out of this, beyond the usual level of animosity Philips could demonstrate on a daily basis against Yuuri. His reputation for not being an exactly patient or understanding teacher was almost as notorious as Yuuri’s tendency to be a smartass. Beyond that though, and despite a couple of absence here and there, Yuuri’s grade were impeccable, and he was ever only disrespectful with the one teacher that considered respect to be a one way street in his favor. 

“You little b-”

“Alright that’s enough,” Feltsman sharply cut off, his hand raising in front of Philips who’d taken a step forward. “I don’t think Yuuri needs to steal your exam to pass it Eugene,” he added throwing a quick side glance down on the paper Philips still held. 

“Are you insinuating my class is easy?” he shot back, his face contorted in this unbearably ridiculous pitbull expression. 

Funny, Yuuri thought, how Philips could either look like a weasel or a pitbull based on the situation. 

“No, but I’d be very worried if he couldn’t pass a fifth grader math test,” he pointed out, giving Philips an unimpressed look. 

Yuuri felt laughter bubble up again, but he simply contained it in a smirk, all the while Philips was effectively at a loss for any counter-argument. He looked back down at his paper, before his eyes flickered back up between the Principal and the group of smirking teenagers. 

The alarm stopped ringing, and with his mouth slightly gaping open, he breathed out an incomprehensible mumble as he snapped around and left them all there. 

Feltsman shot a pointed look at Yuuri, who subdued his smirk somewhat. Even if the Principal wouldn’t hold it against him, he wasn’t about to tempt fate. Feltsman didn’t say anything for several seconds, which felt like forever, his gaze heavy but unreadable. He finally sighed, dropping his eyes to the floor briefly in exhaustion. 

Yuuri almost felt bad for tormenting the man. Behind his gruff demeanor, he was one of the best men he knew and he’d overlooked Yuuri’s tendency to repeatedly miss class or shooting snarky comment to Philips many times over. 

When Feltsman looked back up, it was on him that his eyes fell. They had filled with a familiar mixture of fondness and exasperation. Yuuri almost smiled at the expression, having been on the receiving end of such look many times over from his family, professors and coach. He tried to keep the neutral expression, waiting for whatever would come.

The hallway started to fill with the usual and growing hustle and bustle of teenagers getting back in, and it prompted Feltsman to start moving again. He gave one last pointed look in Yuuri’s direction, accompanied with small but sharp nod as if to say “I’m watching you”. Without a word, he turned around and started walking back toward the office area. 

The teenagers didn’t dwell in place, exchanging look just as Phichit took in a sharp breath with a small movement of his head as if to say “that was close”. 

“Oh and Mister Nikiforov,” they all snapped up to look at Feltsman who hadn’t stopped walking, “no need to pretend limping.”

He waved his hand up in the air, emphasizing the last word, and after he’d turn the corner of the hallway, Yuuri didn’t stop the laugh from escaping his lips this time. It seemed to relieve the tension he felt the others had built up, and they all let out nervous laughs in concert. 

“Yuuri, I’ll never get enough of you snapping at Philips, it was brilliant!” Phichit exclaims between breaths, his hand cupping Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri chuckled in response. It did feel brilliant. He could almost forget the morning exhaustion. 

“I’d ask why exactly you needed saving, but you’re not gonna answer, am I right?” Chris asked, a sly smile on his lips and his hand on his hip. 

No he wouldn’t, and he was glad Chris wasn’t actually asking. Even if he had, Yuuri wouldn’t have had answered, but he would have at least felt a little bad about keeping it from him especially since he and Viktor hadn’t hesitated a second in helping Phichit getting him out of there. 

He wordlessly apologized with small smile. Chris took in a large inhale shaking his head and chuckling as if it couldn’t be helped. 

He gave a gentle shove with the back of his hand on Viktor’s chest. “We need to go, we’ve got class on the other side of the school.” 

Viktor nodded, and started turning around. Yuuri’s mouth worked too fast for his brain to register, and the words were out before he could even think better of it. 

“Good job by the way,” he complimented, and he surprised himself at how genuine it sounded. 

Viktor turned his hand back at him, cocking it to the side in question. “For picking up on what I said earlier. I’m glad the co-op was a one-time slip up,” he elaborated, his voice teasing. 

Viktor’s mouth broke into playful, challenging smile at the provocation, and Yuuri swore he stuck his tongue out at him. 

Very aware of the pointed look Phichit was drilling into him, he innocently turned to his friend. 

“What?” 

“Oh nothing,” Phichit said, his words belied by the gleam in his eyes.

Yuuri didn’t want it to end there, and he opened his mouth to ask Phichit to elaborate, but obviously his friend had already scurried off to the other side of the hallway.  
He closed his mouth, vaguely frustrated but aware he’d have time to make Phichit spill whatever had been on his mind later. 

He only realized that JJ was still standing next to him when he made to turn around and go to his next class. He stopped short in his track, levelling a curious glance at the other. He was looking everywhere but at Yuuri, and Yuuri couldn’t help but being in literal awe at how uncertainty looked on JJ. The guy usually reeked self-confidence, and seeing him fidget on the spot was very out of character. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Yuuri asked, making sure he didn’t sound accusing or provoking. It snapped JJ’s head up, and the nervousness seemed to evaporate at the words. 

“Can I talk to you?” 

What was it with everyone wanting to talk to him this week? 

Yuuri suspected it had something to do with whatever the hell had happened the day before in the station, and even if having a conversation with JJ wasn’t his dream recess time, he was too curious to pass on the opportunity. 

“Sure.”

JJ looked around them, seemingly debating whether he should broach whatever he wanted to say in the middle of the full hallway or not. 

“Let’s go outside,” Yuuri decided for him. 

JJ didn’t argue, and simply followed Yuuri out of the building. Yuuri leaned over on the metal banister, waiting for JJ to say whatever it was he needed to say, by looking at him expectantly. 

“You know I don’t like you much right?” 

Yuuri scoffed. “Shocker.” 

“No I mean, not so much you as a person. You can be pretty hilarious,” he said with a small smile and Yuuri was a little dumbfounded at the gesture. “But I got defensive over Viktor. One day you guys hated each other, and the next he’s following you everywhere. I didn’t know why, and I just thought you were messing with him or something. Obviously I was wrong, and I guess I just wanted to… I don’t know, apologize.”

Yuuri sighed silently, observing the other. JJ only cared for Viktor. He cared enough to snap at Yuuri to demand answers and if anything, it made it acceptable enough for him to brush off the event. 

Yuuri knew the apology probably hadn’t been an easy thing for him to say, and the fact that he looked genuine admitting it made it all more respectable. JJ’s aggressiveness the day before for sure had taken him a little aback. He hadn’t expected such intensity, but now that he had an explanation for it, he didn’t really care. 

“You were just worried for Viktor,” he finally said, simply stating a fact.

JJ chuckled away the embarrassment of having to apologize. “Let’s say that.”

“Oh don’t play coy now Jean-Jacques,” Yuuri joked, emphasizing on his full name and eliciting a groan out of JJ. “That’s just why you snapped yesterday right? I mean you can be insufferable most of the time, but one thing you’ve got for yourself is that you usually never get aggressive.”

“Insufferable, hah?” JJ let out, quirking an amused eyebrow. 

“Oh even you can’t argue with that!” 

JJ mumbled in response, before clearing his voice forcefully. “Anyway, yeah, I snapped and I’m sorry for snapping. There I said it.” 

Yuuri was glad he’d agreed to talk to him. He was glad JJ could tell him that, and he was glad he’d heard him out. Objectively, despite how off balance JJ’s outburst had thrown him, the incident itself had been quickly forgotten; but among all the things he was busy thinking about these days, hearing the king of obnoxious apologizing genuinely was pretty satisfying. Deep down, he knew he was also glad to note that JJ really cared about Viktor. 

“You know what’s really disturbing about you? Other than everything of course,” his voice was teasing, and he allowed a smile on his lips as JJ looked up with a playful glare. “You’re actually a decent friend.”

JJ scoffed. “Oh come on you’ll embarrass me!”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes, quirking an eyebrow as he asked, smiling. “You can embarrass the shameless?” 

He didn’t wait for JJ to answer, and simply walked back towards the door as he heard a light chuckle from behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! Hope you liked this chapter!
> 
> This ("I can't decide if I need an XL coffee, a hug, eight shots of vodka, 826 chicken nuggets or two months of sleep") is definitely not mine - I can't remember where exactly I found it (it was on social media, but which one...) since I've written this chapter a long time ago, but I just could picture Yuuri saying it!  
> \--> I know he's about 17 so technically, since that story is in US, that's not supposed to work, but I'm using France's reference. We can officially buy alcohol at 18 (I'm pretty sure that technically, it's supposed to apply to drinking it too) but a big majority of us all have drunk alcohol much earlier than that, between asking a sip from our parents' wine and high school parties. (Also, the "eight shots of vodka" is mostly for drama effect than an actual realistic depiction of our drinking habits.)
> 
> Yuuri's "Sure, if you can ask without the usual level of stupid" is also not me. Those of you familiar with Teen Wolf might remember Stiles Stilinski's sarcastic streak.
> 
> And as usual, some VM references!
> 
> There's a few other here and there, but those are the main ones! :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got my wisdom teeth removed. All four of them. Flash news: it's not fun. 
> 
> Which is why I'm posting this chapter early - it distracted me from the pressure in my jaw. 
> 
> Pretty intense chapter...I loved writing it, and I hope you'll enjoy reading it!

As Yuuri walked through the parking lot to get back to his car, he was making mental notes of everything he needed to do. He was still waiting on Leo for the analysis of the car plate, and until then there was only so much he could do. He wasn’t as scared as he was before about Makkachin’s disappearance, for the very simple reason that he had the intuition that the high reward they’d placed on the flyers should prevent anything bad to happen to her. That rested on assumptions obviously, but considering how well his strategy had played out with the other missing dog they had managed to get back, he was fairly confident. 

He passed by the alleys of parked cars a little absent-mindedly, trying to organize his list of priorities. 

Something that was somewhat more puzzling than Makkachin’s case, was the connection he had made between Bogdan and Anya’s father. On hindsight, what he had discovered didn’t certify that the CEO was linked to the mafia his father was investigating on. It was solely a name. Besides, the man he had seen at the hotel and had assumed to be the leader definitely wasn’t Andrei Dvornikov. 

He had truly no idea whatsoever what that could mean; if it meant anything. His initial goal in breaking in the student files was solely to satisfy a curiosity. Now that that was done, he wasn’t exactly more far advanced. He’d need to provide his father with a good explanation regarding his playing hide and seek in the vice-principal office obviously, and at least that discovery provided him with substantial reason. 

He was looking around without paying much attention to anything, zigzagging between the hustle and bustle of students, when he passed by something interesting enough to catch his eye and cut off his train of thoughts. 

He stopped in his tracks, and turned around, eyes falling on the object of his interest. 

White van? Checked. Rodeo sticker? Checked. Rear mudguards punctured with the shape of a busty woman? Checked. 

He smiled. Maybe he didn’t have to wait for Leo anymore. His phone binged, announcing a notification. He smiled upon seeing Leo’s address email displayed on his screen, sweeping quickly in order to view the content. 

_“There you go Yuuri! I’ve found the identity of the owner of the van. He goes to our school, so you might actually know him! Good luck with whatever it is you’re doing! ;)”_

Yuuri nearly laughed. This was way too perfect, and he felt the need to cross his fingers and hope nothing would come back at him in compensation for his undeniable luck. 

Upon seeing the name displayed in the attachment of the mail, Yuuri felt anger bubble in the pit of his stomach, although he realized he wasn’t surprised in the least. 

Of course. Out of all people, it had to be him. He made the rash decision of breaking into the van in the middle of the busy parking lot without even thinking about the possibility of people would notice him breaking in. He sincerely didn’t give a damn at the moment. Besides, most of the time people only saw what they wanted to see. 

He was determined in confronting the guy, and he had the pointed intuition that waiting in front of the car of a potential dog kidnapper with a look on his face that screamed trouble probably wasn’t the smartest idea. 

He didn’t have to wait long, since Hans Anderson, aka city pound employee, aka supposedly dog helper, aka massive hypocrite, arrived barely a few minutes after Yuuri had slipped in the back of the van. 

Silently, Yuuri observed how he made his way on the driver’s seat, and didn’t miss the instant where Hans froze, and the look of baffled surprised upon noticing another human being in the vehicle in the reflection of the rear-mirror. 

“Do you kill dogs?” Yuuri said, ever so calmly, with a forced pleasant expression on his face that he knew was barely enough to conceal the rage he felt. 

“What are you doing in my van?” Hans exclaimed as he twisted his upper body, one hand on the wheel and looking straight at Yuuri who shamelessly ignored the question. 

“I know what you're doing, you know,” he stated casually, cocking his head to the side and giving the other a sharp look. “Kidnapping dogs, holding them at the pound and then waiting for the offer of a big reward.” 

Hans narrowed his eyes. “You're the one who broke into my van and you're accusing me of stealin-?”

“How old are you Hans?” Yuuri cut off offering a sickly sweet smile. 

Hans backed off a little at the non-sequitur, uncertain about where that had come from so suddenly. 

“18, why?”

Yuuri breathed out a short, cold chuckle. 

“Good-bye juvie. Hello Community soap,” he said on a singing note, losing the smile as soon as the words were out of his mouth. 

He made his way out of the van, leaving behind a dumbfounded Hans, and already having laid down the next steps he needed to take. 

He took out his phone with the intention of notifying Seung-Gil about the discovery. As he quickly typed out a text, an idea rang a bell in his mind and he decided to roll along with it, sending a message to JJ, asking for a favor. The heartfelt apology – as heartfelt as an apology could be coming from JJ – was knowledge enough for Yuuri to decide to try his idea out. As he walked towards his own car, still on his phone, he turned his head around at the sound of running steps coming from behind. 

“Oh Viktor, hey,” he greeted leveling a glance up and down the other’s form as he jogged closer. 

“Hey,” Viktor smiled, and even if Yuuri was still very much baffled by how much one conversation seemed to have rewired him, he wasn’t about to complain. “I wanted to ask earlier, did Leo manage to crack into the sheriff's department mainframe?”

“Yes he did, and actually, you’re coming with me to the pound tonight.”

A flash of surprise cross Viktor’s face, probably because this was the first time Yuuri had actively seek out his involvement, and he looked at Yuuri with his eyebrows up. “Why, what did you find?”

“Remember Hans?” he asked and he deflated as he took in Viktor’s clueless face. Right. Viktor had the memory capability of a teaspoon when it came to names. “The guy at the pound? The one that kissed my ass in front of his colleague because I bugged the teacher’s lounge?”

“Oh yes! I remember that story, but I don’t remember the guy’s face.”

Of course. Yuuri grumbled a little good-naturedly, resisting the urge to smile. 

“Yeah well, he’s responsible,” he continued and Viktor’s face closed off immediately, anger sharpening his features, jaw clenched. “And I have the intuition Makka might be there.” 

“Let’s go now.” 

The tone with which Viktor had said the words was low and cold, almost threatening. Not against Yuuri obviously, but there wasn’t any mistaken his expression. Viktor was infuriated and Yuuri congratulated himself for not saying Hans was less than a fifty meters away at this very moment. He didn’t feel like dealing with an assault just now. 

“We can’t go now, Hans doesn’t work at the moment.”

“And you know this how?”

“Trust me on this, we should go later, after opening hours. We won’t be expected then.”

Viktor gave him an unimpressed look. “And we’ll be able to enter after closing hours, how?” 

Yuuri opened his mouth to repeat his earlier words but Viktor beat him to it, pursing his lips in frustration. “Yeah, I just have to trust you on this too, right?”

Yuuri smiled. “Yup!” 

Viktor grumbled under his breath but didn’t protest further, and Yuuri threw a look behind his shoulder towards the van, and he almost stammered in his steps. He narrowed his eyes, puzzled. 

What was Anya doing, talking with his dog thief suspect?

He was way too far to be able to hear whatever they were saying, and he wasn’t that good at reading on people’s lips. He’d never seen either of them talking before, and he couldn’t imagine a scenario in which he would picture Anya talking to a guy like Hans. So what was this about? Was she in on Hans’ disgusting scheme related to the dogs? Yuuri suddenly had a foreboding feeling he really wished he could have avoided. 

Weirder coincidences couldn’t exist. He’d just found out that Anya’s dad might be related to their only suspect in a mafia case involving particularly shady disappearances and murders; he just busted a freaking puppy thief and now both were talking? 

“Yuuri, are you listening?” 

He snapped his head around. “What? No sorry, what were you saying?” 

Viktor gave him a quizzical look, seemingly assessing whatever it was Yuuri had been lost in. 

“I was asking when we’d go to the pound?”

“Hum, after closing hours,” he trailed off. 

“Yeah no I get that, but what time precisely?” 

Yuuri focused on his breathing, still very much confused by what he’d seen, and his brain was a little slow in catching up with Viktor’s words. 

“I don’t.. I’m not sure... But you know what, I’ll just text you,” he announced more assuredly with a nod in Viktor’s direction, as he pressed the pace away leaving a very confused Viktor behind. 

***

“Dad?”

“I want an explanation for your hide-and-seek party earlier Yuu. And please pretend to be genuine when you apologize too,” his father cut him off after he’d barely stepped a foot in the office. 

He wasn’t even looking at Yuuri when he entered, focused on a small file opened on his desk. Probably Feltman’s demand to check in the students’ fake diagnosis case. 

Yuuri didn’t answer, and instead opened his bag. The shuffle picked his father’s curiosity, and he observed him producing a bunch of papers. Yuuri slammed them on the board, not hard enough to appear upset, but strongly enough to make an impact. He was breathing a little heavily after rushing from the school and literally springing out of his car. 

His father gave him an unimpressed look, eyes fluttering between the paper and Yuuri. “What’s that?” 

Yuuri gave him a look, prompting him to look over the information instead of asking questions. His father sighed but complied, and his brows knitted together as he ghosted over the words. 

“She’s a student at Hasetsu High,” he simply breathed out. 

“Yes, and her name is ‘Bogdanova’,” Yuuri explained, earning an expectant look, “and guess what’s her father’s name is? His real name that is.”

He didn’t reply, simply sifting through the bunch of papers. Yuuri could pinpoint the exact moment when his eyes fell on the name. His face scrunched up in understanding, a mixture of excitement and displeasure swirling on his features. Yuuri knew he wouldn’t have to explain anything further, his father had already filled in the blanks as to what chain of events had led Yuuri to squat in the closet of the high school Principal. 

His father stood up calmly, but Yuuri was not oblivious enough not to notice how his nostrils flared, and the gleam burning in his eyes. 

“I need to go see Sheriff Leroy,” he declared, reaching out to his vest and passing it on. Yuuri raised his eyebrows, still breathing through his mouth. 

“Why?” 

“We need to see if there’s an actual connection between that businessman and our target,” he quickly stated, holding out the papers in emphasis. 

“Can I-” 

His father immediately cut him off, pointing a finger right at him. “No,” his voice boomed, although it didn’t sound mad. “You are staying here, and Yuuri for the love of god, I am asking to please obey this time.” 

Yuuri gaped in protest, astounded. “Dad you can’t just leave me out of this now.” 

“Yes I can, and I am.”

“But-”

“Yuuri please.” 

His tone was final, his expression stern and clenched. Yuuri had to bite his tongue not to argue. He grimaced, gritting his teeth before finally rolling his eyes in defeat. 

This was enough of an answer for his father, who gave a last pointed look and told him he was closing the office door before scurried off to the door, leaving a slumped Yuuri in his wake. 

He heard the door close, and he breathed out his annoyance. He wouldn’t follow him. He hadn’t exactly promised, but he knew where to draw the line to his father’s indulgence. His expression had clearly indicated he wouldn’t trust Yuuri anymore if he dared breach this one demand. 

Finding himself alone in the middle of the office, he felt restless. Spotting Anya near his puppy thief had sent him in a frenzy, dread curiosity shooting up. His overactive brain had already laid down dozens of theories, each more extravagant than the next, and all only serving one goal: appeasing the urge to be doing something about it. Giving the information to his dad hadn’t been an impulsive decision, but now that he, himself, couldn't act on it, he felt robbed. 

He circled his desk and let himself fall in the plush chair, sliding a little until his back was arched and legs extended in front of him. He rolled his head back slightly, looking at the ceiling and trying to make sense of the situation he found himself in. His breathing had calmed down, and he felt calmer already, but the buzzing he could feel in his body wouldn’t quite leave him alone. His mind was reeling over the curiosity that his father’s haste had elicited. He’d looked just as frantic as Yuuri was feeling, and if he’d deemed he couldn’t wait even a second before running to talk with the Sheriff could only mean one thing. 

He had information Yuuri ignored, and possibly something big. 

“Damn it,” he huffed, without real force in cursing. 

A sudden pinging sound pierced the silent fog of the room. His brows furrowed an instant in reflex, and he tilted his head forward slowly, turning to the sound. He kept his eyes trained to where he knew the hallway leading outside the building disappeared behind the wall, waiting. Waiting for what, he wasn’t sure, it was probably noth-

His heart jerked in his chest. 

Another noise, sharp and hard busted through the room, and Yuuri jerked forward in alert. What the hell was that? It sounded way too close to be anywhere else but at the end of the hallway, like a lock being popped open. He knew well how sound carried from the exterior and through the hallway, and the now creeping shrilling sound was unmistakable. Someone had been hoping to open the door silently. 

Fear crawled in, slowly at first as he waited in muted silence, eyes wide and breathing forcibly controlled. He could already feel the strain in his chest, having his heart rate picking up speed while he kept his breathing exaggeratingly steady. 

The entire office had fallen back in a surreal silence. He frowned. Maybe the stress was making him paranoid. Nothing came anymore, everything was calm exactly like it’d been mere minutes ago. 

He couldn’t shake the nagging pit in his stomach telling him this wasn’t normal. If someone had come in to request their services they would have found the door closed, and either knocked or left. If it was his father coming back, he would have had the keys. 

The old and battered wooden floor creaked in the hallway and Yuuri reacted on instinct. Maybe he was paranoid, but caring didn’t even cross his mind. He’d rather take precautions and calm himself than regretting doing nothing. 

He left the chair as slowly as he could, making sure he wasn’t committing the same mistake whoever was in the hallway was making. 

He walked on his tiptoes, avoiding the flooring boards he knew always creaked, throwing wary glances over to the mouth of the hallway, jaw so clenched it hurt. As soon as he’d passed the threshold of his father’s section door, the floor was covered with an old carpet. Shabby sure, but it was enough to cushion whatever noise he would have made without it. 

The closet was his best bet. He didn’t even for a second think about how ironic it was that he would find himself having to hide in a closet for the second time that day, but he did feel grateful for the rehearsal in Feltsman’s office earlier. The door didn’t make a sound as it opened, and he crawled inside. The small space was filled with file boxes and old cases they hadn’t have the time to sort through. To anyone else, it would have brought despair knowing the only decent hiding place was blocked. 

Not surprised at all, Yuuri knew what he was aiming for: there was a small cavity behind some of the boxes, where the old safe used to be before they had gotten a bigger one. It was usually blocked by a small door with seemingly no locks from the outside. Nothing could have been better to pretend no one was hiding there. 

He was trying to stay as calm as he could, but another creaking sound from the hall made his resolve fly out the window. His heart was hammering so hard in his chest, it felt like a battering ram against his ribcage, ready to burst out. 

Febrile, his hands were shaking atrociously as he produced the keys and gripped the black electronic remote and went to pass it over where he knew the lock was. He kept his mouth resolutely closed, although air was fighting to be let in faster to match his pulse. He couldn’t let it. He couldn’t let it or else he knew he’d start hyperventilating and really he couldn’t afford it now. Not with the fear he could feel pressuring from behind as he could distinctly hear muffled footsteps and whispers. He threw panicked glances behind his shoulders just as the small door popped open without a sound. He closed the closet, and slithered behind the boxes and the coats. He reached forward the doorknob to pull back the door oh so slowly as soon as he’d made it inside and trying to make himself as small as he could. 

Darkness surrounded him, oppressive and not exactly calming, but safer. They were two doors and a gigantic mess between him and whoever it was that had entered. He would be fine. Everything was gonna be fine. 

He shut his eyes tightly, swallowing heavily the stress lump in his throat, as air was jerked in and out his lungs almost painfully. Everything was fine. He was fi- 

His eyes opened with a start, anguish and panic rushing through. He knew how guns worked, and he also knew the distinct clicking sound that it made as the cannon recharged and the security was removed. These guys had guns. They had guns and they were in the office. What were they doing in the office? 

Yuuri was getting dizzy. His hands flew over his mouth covering any sounds fear might have made him produce. He was pressing hard over his mouth, eyes blown out and staring straight ahead. He could feel them staring from behind the door. Oh god, they knew. He was sure they knew. 

All rational thought had been drowned in the ever rising panic. He couldn’t think beyond ensuring he was more silent than the dead themselves. He could hear their pacing continuing slowly, and he heard voices as clear as if he was in the room with them. That wasn’t exactly helping in calming his rattled breathing and distressed heart. 

“No one’s here.”

Yuuri held his breathing for a second. Maybe they hadn’t found him. Maybe they could just leave and not think of searching further. 

“There’s a car upfront.”

His heart clenched once more. He knew that voice. Didn’t he? Despite the situation he was in, Yuuri knew immediately that this voice wasn’t entirely unknown to him, he’d heard it before. But where? 

“And that could be anyone’s. Where would anyone hide in this rathole?” 

“Rats can get anywhere Jo,” the man said with an unhurried slurry voice, his voice dripping morbid excitement. 

Yuuri wanted to puke. His head was swirling, his pulse was furiously raging in his ears, and his vision was getting blurry as white spots were flashing before his retinas. 

Oh god no, he couldn’t pass out now. He released the pressure over his mouth and drew in all his self-control to make sure his breathing wouldn’t become even more erratic than it already was. 

He started strongly when he heard the closet being slammed open, and the following silence as one of the men was taking in the sight of an empty closet. 

“See told you. No one’s here.” The other man said nonchalantly. 

The other mumbled ungraciously, his tone ringing with annoyance, like a predator whose prey had escaped. “The job needs to get done,” he declared stubbornly.

“Yeah right, and how do you plan on doing that without him being here, ugh?” 

Him? Were they looking for him? Sudden realization broke through in his mind, and he felt the blood drain from his face. 

“That stupid investigator is getting too close, we can’t let it go any longer.” 

“Yeah well that’s great but he’s not here, so let’s get the hell out of here.” 

The other grumbled, and slammed the door forcefully. 

The steps followed their way back to the hall and as soon as Yuuri heard the entrance door close with a muffled sound, all his defense mechanisms broke down. 

He let out the desperate breaths he’d been holding since the beginning, his chest heaving up and down in a manic rhythm. He was suffocating, he had to get out of here. 

He fumbled with the keys and managed to pass the electronic key before the reader. Fresher air made its way to his lungs as he crawled his way out the cavity, pushing the boxes aside. 

He extended his hand upwards to grasp the closet knob, only to have it slipped off of it as soon as he’d touched it and it was all he could do to cushion his falling forward with his arm.  
It was enough for the door to slide open slightly and he pushed it as strongly as he could. 

He scrambled out of the closet, breathing erratic and bile burning the back of his throat. He hadn’t realized he was crying until small droplets fell on his hands. Grunts and choked air were escaping from his mouth as he sat down, the sobs lost in his desperate attempts at breathing. He was dizzy again, he couldn’t see what was happening in front of him, all the noises, if any, muffled. As if an opaque veil was forming between him and the rest of the world. 

Someone else had come in, but he didn’t care, he couldn’t. His body was dropping down from the forced breathing, from the panic that had crawled its way through its veins, incapacitating all rational thoughts to form. 

He heard something… Was that his name? Was someone saying his name? It sure sounded like it. And he knew that voice too. He knew it very well. 

A swirl of silver appeared before his eyes, intense blue irises staring in his.  
Oh yes, he did know that person. That was...Viktor. Right? 

He thought it was Viktor, he couldn’t see well. It sounded like him at least, and he knew it was him even though his brain wasn’t exactly able to process information at the moment.  
He sounded...worried - panicked even. His voice was yelling his name over and over. Why was he screaming? 

Yuuri felt a pang in his head as his heart was being squeezed painfully over the hyperventilation. It pulled him out of his daze, realization coming back to him. He’d been hiding. Someone had come in, with the intent of killing his father. Oh god. They wanted to kill his father.

“Yuuri! Yuuri look at me!” 

He jumped, his head whirling around hysterically. Why wasn’t his breathing calming down? It hurt!

“Yuuri, look. At. Me.” Two hands went cupping his face, angling it just so as Viktor’s face came into his field of vision again. “Yuuri I need you to calm down please, slow down your breathing.” 

That’s what he was trying to do! Couldn’t he see that? 

“Yuuri, shush, calm down” the voice was soft, barely hiding the tinges of panic behind it, as fingers were carefully stroking his cheeks. “Take a deep breath, look at me, try and do the same.” 

Yuuri looked at him. Looked how Viktor’s frame heaped up in a lent ascension, would stop for a second , and then down again, mouth open as he let out the deep breath. So Yuuri did. It was shaky, and uncomfortable. But he tried. In, and out. In and out. 

It wasn’t working! Another wave of tears sprang out of eyes and trailed down his cheeks. He shook his head quickly, mumbling and sobbing, choking on his own air. 

“Yuuri! What- oh god. What should I do. Yuuri please!” 

He was barely registering what was happening. All he knew was the poisonous panic rushing through his veins, his heart furiously pounding in his chest and ears. 

His head hurt. God it hurt! He’d been sending too much air up there, and another pang in his chest reminded him his heart didn’t like it either. 

And suddenly nothing. 

Everything disappeared. The pain was gone. His head was clear for a moment and his heart lurched at the sudden loss of oxygen. Did he black out? No… He didn’t think so… All he could feel was warmth and softness on his lips and a sweet scent of flower tingling his nose. 

Everything calmed down. The raging slowed and his mind started to regain its faculties once more. 

The warmth left and as he looked up, Viktor was standing right here, so close their noses were barely a few centimeters away. 

Had Viktor...kissed him? 

“Why did you do that?” he choked as his vision cleared. 

Viktor looked rattled. Worry lines were coating his ordinarily soft features, eyes wide with anguish as he stared at him. 

“You were hyperventilating, you wouldn’t stop... So when I kissed you…” he trailed off and realization struck Yuuri once more. 

“...I stopped breathing.” 

Viktor nodded, a little gingerly as if he wasn’t sure Yuuri was going to be mad at him or not. 

Yuuri breathed deeply this time, slowly focusing on each inhale and exhale. How could he be mad? Mere seconds before he was close from passing out. It’d been too long since he’d experienced a panic attack, he didn’t know how to handle them properly anymore. And besides never had it been about maniacs potentially after his father to kill him. He would cut himself some slack for freaking out this time. 

Viktor had stayed silent since Yuuri had spoken up, and Yuuri looked up at him again meeting the same blue eyes gleaming with worry, and something else that he couldn’t really quite place.

“I’m alright, really I promise.” 

“You weren’t alright,” Viktor retorted a little forcefully, his eyebrows meeting together in...frustration? Anger? What was he angry about? He couldn’t possibly know why Yuuri had gone into full blown panic attack. Not that he planned on telling him. 

The tone took Yuuri a little by surprise and he could only open and close his mouth like a golden fish for a few seconds. “I know,” he finally settled on, “but I’m fine now.” 

He tried to keep his voice leveled even though it was still a little shaky, and his tone was as soft and reassuring as he could make it. 

“What happened?” the words were commanding.

That would be fun to answer. _Nothing really, just two armed dudes who decided to pop up inconspicuously at the office to kill off my father but left because he wasn’t there. No biggie_.

Yeah no, not gonna happen. 

“I… got stressed out.” 

Viktor deadpanned, unimpressed as his eyebrows arched up slowly. The gleam in his eyes was dark and although he’d never admit it, Yuuri felt somewhat impressed by the intensity. 

“From what?”

Yuuri shrugged noncommittally and Viktor let out a frustrated sigh. 

“Was It because of a case? I saw the two men leaving the building earlier, does it have something to do with Alistair Industries?

Yuuri’s breath caught, and he snapped his head back to face Viktor. “Alist- wait you know them?” 

“The men? Yes of course, they work with my dad.”

Yuuri’s brain court-circuited, feeling a cold sweat breaking down his spine. 

Assassins, working with Viktor’s father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo...? :) 
> 
> The Hans/Yuuri confrontation is straight from the episode of VM this story was initially inspired by; and the Yuuri/Viktor scene after Yuuri's panic attack is from a Lydia/Stiles scene in Teen Wolf that I just HAD to include because I absolutely loved it and I couldn't not include it. 
> 
> I might post more chapters this week than usual if I can, but that's not entirely sure yet - if not you'll at least have Wednesday and Friday for sure! (and today I guess)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised! :)   
>  I hope you'll enjoy this one, it was awesome to write in any case! :p

“Wha- how do-,” He stammered and cursed himself inwardly. “What kind of job?” 

Viktor quirked an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressively confused about Yuuri’s question.

“You’re asking what my father does?”

“What? No, no, everyone knows that! What’s their partnership? Are these men working at your dad’s company? Or are they more like contractors? How do they-“

“Wowowo, calm down there!” Viktor halted in chuckling, hands coming up in rendition. “That’s a lot of questions, careful or you might hypo-ventilate this time.”

Yuuri exhaled shakily and attempted a smile that must have looked pained as Viktor’s face fell, growing serious. He didn’t comment on it though, and simply cleared his throat. 

“Hum, yeah they’re working for a partner of my father. They’ve been working together for years. I don’t know them well though. I mean my dad is pretty private about his work.” 

Yuuri allowed a breathy chuckle escape his lips as a miserable attempt to reduce the tensions he’d built. His mind was reeling. 

What did that mean? Did it even mean something? He hated jumping to conclusions, but how could he not? The arrival into town of the only potential suspect in the biggest case they had ever worked on up to date, Anya’s father’s name being linked to what they suspected to be the largest mafia group of their city, and now the collaborators of Viktor’s father breaking and entering the PI office of the only person continuing the investigations. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why they had been there, either. Viktor’s father’s threats came back to him like a battering ram. It didn’t help. 

“Yuuri, are you alright? You’re pale as a sheet,” Viktor asked softly, concern sipping through his voice.

Yuuri hummed, nodding slowly. He needed to change the conversation quickly. He was very well aware he wasn’t being convincing, and he dearly hoped Viktor would put it on the account of the panic attack. But if he didn’t, he’d inevitably ask too many questions, and Yuuri wouldn’t have any answer to give him. 

“Actually, what are you doing here?” He blurted out, suddenly realizing that it didn’t make any more sense than the rest of what was happening. 

“Hah?” A gleam of surprise flashed on Viktor’s face as he blinked, clearly not having been expecting such a question. “Oh, hum,” he started, running a hand through his hair as he gathered back his thoughts. “I wanted to talk about what we would do for tonight. You know the pound and all,” he explained, clearly not sure if he was making sense. 

Yuuri breathed out and nodded in understanding. That, he could work with. Anything to keep his mind away from what just had happened. 

He needed to warn his father though. Immediately. 

“I just need to make a call,” he told him, “do you have your car? Do you mind waiting there, I’ll join you as soon as I’m done,” he added when Viktor nodded.

He saw the reluctance coating Viktor’s features, and he was about certain it had to do with him nearly passing out mere minutes earlier. He felt better now though, and he hoped schooling his face into a calm expression would be enough to relax Viktor. He still felt shaken, adrenaline was running high, and he’d never felt physically this bad in a very long time. But he wasn’t just going to say that, it’d defy the purpose of trying to stay discreet in talking to his father about attempted murder.

Viktor finally relented, squatting back up and reaching his hands out to Yuuri, still slumped on the floor and leaning against the desk. He took them gratefully, and was glad to realize his head wasn’t feeling dizzy anymore. He turned on his heels, circling around the large desk to reach the landline phone there. His own phone was probably lost in the bottom of his bag and he wasn’t willing to lose even a second looking for the damn thing. 

Viktor was still standing there when Yuuri sat down, the handset already in his hand. He looked uncertain about leaving him, and Yuuri raised his eyebrows, forcing a soft smile in reassurance. 

Viktor breathed out and nodded. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

Yuuri nodded and proceeded to compose the number. 

_Come on, come on, come on_. Why wasn’t his father answering? Dammit this was important!

The tone of the line waiting to be passed through kept beeping and Yuuri’s legs were bouncing up and down in nervous energy, and he sighed loudly when the line went dead. 

He immediately tried again; and again; and again. Why wasn’t he answering? 

HIs stomach dropped. Had they found him already? 

No, no. They couldn’t have. They hadn’t left so long ago, and they clearly had no idea where he was. He should be fine; besides, hadn’t he said he was heading to see the sheriff? Surely he was at the station, and they certainly wouldn’t think of searching him there. Or at least, they wouldn’t engage in a station full of armed cops. Or so he hoped. 

At the fifth attempt, his father’s voice reached his ears, sounding exasperated. “What Yuuri?”  
Relief washed over him. 

“Dad! Something happened! They were two men, two men from Alistair Industries who came into the office; Vi-,” he nearly choked on his words as he realized he was about to slip up and reveal to his father’s Viktor’s involvement. “Hum I think they work with the Nikiforov company… they tried to be discreet, they were looking for you,” he couldn’t make sense of his own words. 

He was trying to blurt everything out, but none of it made sense in the slightest. He stopped his incoherent speech for a second, taking a deep breath to calm down his heart rate that had picked back up. 

“They were two men, who came here looking for you; but dad, they were armed and they weren’t coming for chit chat and tea.”

Not a sound came from the line. He did expect at least a more lively reaction than that. “Dad?”

“Yuuri where are you right now?” his father quickly asked, his tone sharp. 

He startled a little. “Hum, at the office.”

“Are you meaning to say, you were in the office when two armed men came looking for me?” 

Yuuri blanched. His voice was cold and tense. “Yes, I hid in the old safe cavity,” he explained, his voice reduced to a whisper as the fear he’d felt panged his heart as a reminder. 

He could hear his father’s staggered breathing on the other side as he processed the information. 

“I think it’s because of the Sulliman case,” Yuuri added, not sure if it would make things better, but desperate to find something to fill the heavy silence his dad had implemented. 

“Of course it is,” was all his father choked out. “I knew it. Damn it! Yuuri I don’t want you to look into this anymore. This isn’t an option, you stay away am I clear?”

“Dad, I’m already involved, and if you think I’m backing out now-”

“Yuuri, this isn’t a game!” 

Yuuri recoiled at the sudden yell. His father never yelled. “You got in harm’s way because of this case. I’m putting an end to it, I don’t want you sticking your nose into it anymore.”

That was rich of him to ask since the only time he’d gotten in harm’s way, he hadn’t even done anything to provoke it. Harm had found him, not the other way around. 

Yuuri took the opportunity of his father taking a breath to argue back. He’d been terrified, to be sure. And this wasn’t something that he would forget any time soon; but there was no way he was dropping it now. 

“They wanted to _kill_ you, dad. Not me, you! They didn’t see me and I’m fine!”

“This isn’t the point, Yuuri-”

“Oh but it is! Is it more legitimate for you not willing to put my safety at risk than for me to be unwilling to risk yours?” 

A silence followed his words, a long and heavy sigh meeting his outburst. “Dad, whether you like it or not, I’m involved now. And if they were ready to come in the office to kill you, how do you want to avoid me being out of harm’s way? Not coming to the office anymore?” 

Oh he knew his father could very well prevent him from coming in the office everyday, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight. He’d throw a tantrum if need be, but there was no way he’d back off now. 

“Stay away from the office for now. We’ll talk about this tonight.”

The words didn’t elicit the same snarky joy he’d felt when he had been nagging at his father to let him in on the case at the beginning of the week. He was relieved of course, that he wouldn’t have to struggle further on the matter now, but along with it, there was a dread coating all his thoughts, a disagreeable weariness putting him on edge, as if he was standing on a very thin line above a ravine, susceptible to fall at the most minor perturbations. He felt targeted now. He’d never taken the job they did lightly. Actions had consequences, and whatever their motivations, ultimately their line of work was bound to bring them enemies. 

Never to that point however. Never before had he feared for his life or that of his family. Never before had he been this terrified. A suffocating fear, smothering any gleam of rationality. He’d been lucky earlier, and he couldn’t help but wondering how long this luck would last. 

“Alright. Please be careful.” 

Hi father sighed.   
“You too Yuu, I love you.”

The line went dead and Yuuri stayed there, the phone clutched to his ear so hard that it hurt, knuckles white. They would rarely just say _that_. _“I love you”_. Not that they didn’t think it. But saying it was an all other matter. It sounded like a desperate insurance, just in case, and he hated it. It simply added more reality to the situation they were finding themselves in. 

He breathed out the air he’d been holding, and slapped the phone back on its base. 

He simply grabbed his bag, back where he’d been dropped on the floor behind his own desk, and went out to join Viktor. 

He was seating down on the steps leading out of their office, slumped on himself and a little pout had claimed his face. 

“Are you sulking?” Yuuri asked as lightly as he could, trying to push through a teasing edge and hoping it would dispel any remnants of the earlier tension. Besides, he needed to clear his mind out of his conversation with his father. He was glad they had to take care of – hopefully – getting Makkachin back that evening. He didn’t have any doubt that staying in without anything to do would have likely driven him down the path of another panic attack. 

“Oh no, of course not,” he retorted, his pout brilliantly belying his words. 

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile, surprised at how natural it felt, both because it was Viktor eliciting it, and because of the terror he’d felt mere moments before. He didn’t dwell on it, and instead made a knowing mumbling sound in response to Viktor’s poor attempt at denial, nudging his elbow in Viktor’s arm. 

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” 

Yuuri looked at his watch. “We still have time, but we need to pick up two people before heading over to the pound.” 

“Oh? Who do we need?” 

“Well,” Yuuri started as he circled Viktor’s car, “we’ll need someone to get us in the pound won’t we? We can’t just overstep authority like that.”

Viktor snorted amused, “You know, even if I might not know you very well, I can confidently say that overstepping is your main form of transportation.” 

Yuuri rolled his eyes playfully, allowing a breathy chuckle to past his lips. “Right, I guess you could say that,” he admitted after a few seconds, to Viktor’s smirking face. “But it’s usually last resort!”

“Do you actually believe that?”

He opened his mouth, a retort on his lips, before it died there. “Yeah no. Whatever! As I was saying, before getting incredibly rudely interrupted,” he dramatically accused, “we need someone to help us get in, and who’s better than a representative of the law?” 

Viktor deadpanned.  
“You want to pick up a judge?” 

“What? No, of course not!” Yuuri grimaced at how ridiculous that sounded. “Who are the guardians of the law at the local level?”

Viktor pouted a little in thought, before a strike of understanding flashed in his eyes and he let out an amazingly deflated tone, “You want to involve the deputies?” 

Yuuri nodded, smirking at Viktor’s expression. “One in particular actually.”

“Are you going to tell me who?” 

“Why would I do that?” Yuuri flashed a bright smile and added a wink for good measure. “It’d spoil the fun wouldn’t it?” 

Viktor exhaled a breathy chuckle, shaking his head a little in the same way Chris had when Yuuri refused to explain why he needed their intervention earlier. 

“I should have expected that shouldn’t I?” he said, though it was rhetorical. “Well, who’s the other person then?”

Yuuri schooled his expression in a more serious one. “Seung-Gil. The probabilities that his dog has been kept there is slim, but I’m hoping it might give him some closure.”

Viktor had tensed with worry and his voice almost broke when he uttered, “Do you think Makka is there?”

Yuuri met his eyes, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I don’t know, Viktor. I hope so, but there’s absolutely no certainty.” 

***

Viktor pulled off next to the co-op, where Seung-Gil was currently working his shift. They’d agreed Yuuri would be the one going in to ask him whether he wanted to come or not and Viktor would stay in the car. 

When he found him, Seung-Gil was doing the inventory of the cat and dog food cans shelved on one of the wall of the co-op. 

“Hey Seung-Gil,” he greeted, voice gentle as to not surprise the other too much. 

Seung-Gil swiveled around, and allowed a very small smile in welcome. 

“I’m going down to the city pound tonight, you wanna come with?”

Seung-Gil frowned, confused.   
“What? Why?”

“Because I believe that guy Hans, and the guy from the pound are dognapping pedigree dogs and holding them there until the owners offer reward. I plan on going there and proving it.”

Seung-Gil gaped. Maybe he’d come out a little strong. But he was tired of this farce going on, and he wanted to put an end to it. In retrospect, this case had gone from the most complicated thing this week, to the easiest one to deal with. That didn’t mean it wasn’t plaguing his thoughts half the time, and considering the other pressing matters that had just fallen on his laps, he needed closure. 

After a few seconds, hope burned anew in Seung-Gil’s eyes, and Yuuri felt briefly worried that it would mislead him. “Do you think there's a chance Yun might be alive?

Yuuri grimaced. “I wouldn't get my hopes up,” he admitted reluctantly. “Listen, it's stupid and if you don't want any part of it-”

“I'm in!"

Yuuri almost startled at the forceful statement. Seung-Gil’s feature had taken the same expression Viktor was often showing whenever they would discuss the matter: determined and vaguely angry. 

They left the co-op side by side, only to have Yuuri stopping in his track. “What the..?”

“Yuuri!” Phichit was beaming at him, spreading his arms wide as if to hug him. 

“What are you doing here Phich?” 

“I came to get food for my hamsters, I saw Viktor, and he told me you were inside. Oh and I’m coming too by the way!” 

Yuuri had to take a double take. “You’re– wait– what– why?”

Phichit smiled brightly, but his eyes narrowed a little. “Cause! You’ve kept me out of this case too long! I’m always helping, or have you forgotten all these times where my genius saved your sorry ass?” he disclaimed passionately and Yuuri couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle. 

“Fine!”

Viktor gasped, bringing the attention to him. “I had to beg you to let me help on the case _I_ initiated!” he accused with a pout. 

Yuuri smirked teasingly. “Yeah, and I trust Phichit not to blow things off! I didn’t trust you on that!” 

Viktor’s pout grew tenfold, and Yuuri had to resist indulging into a full laugh. “Alright let’s go, we’re too many people but whatever, we’re not stealing nuclear codes it should be fine.”

Both Seung-Gil and Viktor eyed him suspiciously. “Have you?” Seung-Gil said warily. 

“Steal nuclear codes? Oh yeah sure everyday, and I keep an inventory out of them!” 

It was meant to be a joke, but besides Phichit none of them reacted. “Guys, seriously?”

They exchanged glances that didn’t go unnoticed and Yuuri stared, dumbfounded.

“Well you did bug the teachers’ lounge, have access to the city’s car inventory and get confidential files from the school administration,” Phichit enumerated, a little too amused for Yuuri’s taste. “Among other things might I add.”

“Ok whatever, let’s go!” 

***

“Why in the world are you all here?”

Yuuri gave a mocked sheepish smile to an astonished JJ, who was now staring at their little company with wide eyes.

“Are you guys planning a warfare campaign or what?”

Viktor leaned a little to Yuuri. “That’s your way in the pound?” he asked, voice slightly above a whisper. 

Yuuri shrugged and turned back to JJ. “I did say Viktor and Seung-Gil would probably be there, Phichit tagged along.” 

JJ hummed suspiciously, hands instinctively coming to rest on his belt. He was wearing the standard deputy’s uniform, and that was all they needed to get passed the protest of a likely very angry pound manager. JJ hopped on next to Seung-Gil in Viktor’s car and Yuuri couldn’t help but finding it a little funny. None of them had ever spent time together before that week, and it was simply a little comical to see how everyone had just followed suit without much complaints. 

They arrived at the pound not too long later, but way after the closing time and the sun was already too low in the sky to be considered as daylight anymore. 

“Do you think Hans will be there?” Viktor asked, voice harsh and cutting. Yuuri was about to answer, but Phichit beat him to it. “Who’s Hans?”

“The son of a b*tch who’s gonna pay for stealing our dogs,” Seung-Gil stated on a calm but sharp as steel tone. The contrast between the words and the way he said it was frightening, and Yuuri couldn’t help but exchange a glance with his friend. Phichit pursed his lips, eyebrow shooting up. 

“Yeah, well don’t you interfere please, I’ll handle it,” JJ chimed it, and he sounded nothing but calm and professional. A far cry from the obnoxiously loud and annoyingly confident teenager they usually had to deal with. Even Viktor, who spent the most time with him looked a little baffled by the change. 

So JJ could actually be serious for a minute. He climbed the couple of steps in front of the door, and proceeded to knock loudly. 

"Open up, sheriff’s department!” 

Hans’s boss came to open, face all but welcoming and he was glaring at them with a mean look on his face. 

“We need to take a look around,” JJ said as soon as the door half-opened, pushing it all the way and allowing the others to step in. The man’s eyes quickly flickered to all of them, resting longer on Viktor and Seung-Gil. 

“What, what for?” he protested, but JJ ignored him, walking past him, the others in tow. “Look his dog is not here!” he snarled at Viktor. 

“Take us to the back now,” JJ simply ordered.

The other scoffed mockingly. “You wanna show me your warrant?”

“What, are you kidding me? This is a public county building, you're a county employee, I'm a county deputy sheriff. Don't make me wake up a judge.”

Hell, he was good. Yuuri was impressed, and he needed a lot to be. He was holding his own against a man taller and bigger than him with an eerie calm. And apparently it worked, because the man clenched his jaw, but finally begrudgingly relented. 

“Fine come with me.”

They were led into an alley at the back, and all the walls were covered by more or less big crates in which dogs were resting. Yuuri didn’t lose time in speaking and went on looking at the different animals. He couldn’t see any of the dogs they were looking for and apparently the man was relishing in the fact. 

“Already told you Mister, your dog isn’t here and yours is dead!” he snarled again, emphasizing on the last word. 

Yuuri scoffed, turning to look at the man in disbelief. Way to be subtle. Viktor and Seung-Gil were fuming, and he sincerely hoped they wouldn’t do anything stupid. 

Phichit, true to himself, had already searched through the hall and was standing in front of a white door bearing the signs “Entry prohibited”. 

“What's behind this door here?”

No answer met his provoking tone.

“What's behind the door?” Yuuri pressed. Oh they were so getting in there. 

“It's locked,” Phichit added with a snarky smile, as if he was reading his thoughts, which in a sense he probably was. 

The man shifted his weight on the side, glaring at Phichit and Yuuri.  
“This is where we keep the dogs with serious contagious diseases. You go in there, you could infect all the-”

“We'll risk it,” JJ interrupted with a saccharin smile everything but genuine. 

“Your dogs aren’t in there!" the other snapped after JJ had been reluctantly given the keys. 

He swiftly opened the door after Phichit had moved aside and Yuuri took in the sight. Like in the hall, the walls were covered by crates, all sheltering dogs, and he immediately recognized some of the ones that had been kidnapped. He took out the posters he’d taken off the information panel from his bag and made his way in front of the crates. 

"Well look at that.. its Boko, and Rufus, and Shakes, and Lola,” he enumerated as he went through all the posters, feeling more triumphant with each name. He’d been right. They’d been kidnapping the dogs and here they were. All of them safe and sound. 

“He's not here, Yun is not here,” Seung-Gil desperately exclaimed. 

His previous exhilaration froze in his veins as he turned to the others. Maybe not all of them. 

Yuuri bit his lips, and his heart clenched painfully in his chest when he took in the expression Viktor was harboring now. He had been silent ever since they’d come in, and now his face was even worse-looking than when he’d come to Yuuri for help. 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered not sure either of them heard him. 

“You have the right to remain silent…” JJ said as he cuffed the pound manager who was quick to argue nonsense again. 

“You cannot prove anything!”

“Please, resist arrest, please!” 

Phichit was next to Seung-Gil, drawing soothing circles on his back, and throwing worried glances at Yuuri. 

Yuuri didn’t really know what to do now. Sure they’d managed to go to the bottom of this, but neither of them had gotten their dogs back. He looked back toward Viktor, and saw that he was shaking, head tilted down and eyes filled with tears he was trying his best not to shed. 

Yuuri’s expression was pained as he made a tentative step forward, unsure what Viktor would accept from him at the moment. He looked devastated, as if everything had shattered once more. 

He swallowed before reaching out, gently putting his hand on Viktor’s arm. Viktor turned his head in his direction, a few tears escaping and rolling on his cheeks. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but his voice got caught in his throat, the words unable to come out and his lips were quivering. 

“Viktor, I’m so so-” 

A large thud outside the room made them all jump with a start. Phichit was stunned; facing the door where Seung-Gil had apparently ran out from. 

“Where is my dog?!” Yuuri heard the other yell. 

He frowned, and quickly jogged out the room behind Phichit. Seung-Gil was towering a cowering Hans, splayed on the floor after receiving something that looked like an electric shock. He was whimpering, and panting, breathing out incoherent protests against Seung-Gil’s assault. 

Viktor gasped, and Yuuri jumped in front of a stunned Phichit to try and stop Seung-Gil. 

“Where is he!?” Seung-Gil screamed, delivering another charge. 

“Seung-Gil, stop!”

“You killed my dog! You bastard, you killed my dog!” 

He was hysterical, poking the taser on Hans’s several times before Yuuri got to him. 

“Stop please! He’s not dead I swear please stop!”

Yuuri’s mind blanked for a second. 

“He’s not dead?” he blurted out.

“N-no,” Hans breathed out in between winces of pain, “we sold the dogs we couldn’t get a high reward’s from!” 

He exchanged a glance with Seung-Gil, and turned toward Viktor who was frowning at them, eyes blown out in shock. 

Before any gleam of hope would enlighten in his eyes, Yuuri turned his attention back to Hans. 

“You sold them all? Yun and Makkachin?” 

“Yes! I’ll tell you to whom but please don’t hurt me!” 

“What in the world have you done now?”

They all turned at once to see JJ eyeing them with a displeased look on his features with his arms crossed as he took in the sight of Hans coiling on the ground, Seung-Gil with a taser in his hand with Yuuri’s hand around his wrist, Viktor gaping like a goldfish and Phichit amused at it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The puppies are saaafe! :D 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that one! 
> 
> The overall pound scene is yet again inspired by VM; that's the last part that is directly inspired from the episode I mentioned if I'm not mistaken.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter 15! :) 
> 
> Thank you all again for the interest and enthusiasm you've shown in this story, your comments always fill me with more joy than I can put into words! <3

“I’m actually really glad I told you to not intervene, or else we would have ended up with a coma on our hands,” JJ reproached, hands on his hips and glaring at Seung-Gil.

Seung-Gil didn’t pay him any attention, all of it being already entirely directed at a wincing and grimacing Hans still sprawled on the floor. 

JJ broke his stance, shaking his head in annoyance but kept it at that. Yuuri looked at him apologetically as he went to grab Hans.

“What the hell happened?” JJ hissed to Yuuri as he hoisted a wobbly Hans up. Yuuri felt not sympathy whatsoever and instead focused on JJ. 

“He just confessed what they were doing with the dogs,” he explained calmly, very aware that Seung-Gil was still glaring daggers at Hans. JJ’s eyebrows twitched upwards in answer.

“No wonder he confessed after what this one did to him,” he muttered with a nod in Seung-Gil’s reactions. 

Yuuri pursed his lips, conceding the point. “He was going to give us the addresses of the people he sold the dogs to,” he continued with meaningful emphasis on “sold”. A look of understanding crossed JJ’s features and for barely a moment he looked as disgusted as Yuuri felt. 

Well, JJ was steadily moving up in Yuuri’s esteem. He swore to himself he would never complain nearly as much at the boisterous personality the other usually exhibited. 

“Alright then, let’s get to it,” JJ declared, dragging Hans to the hall and pushing him behind the counter. They all followed, standing around the counter as Hans went to grab pen and paper. 

Yuuri finally dared a glance in Viktor’s direction. He was wringing his hands together with such strength he could see the strain on the skin and the blood leaving and coming back with each movement. His jaw was clenched, but any trace of tears had been erased angrily after Seung-Gil’s outburst. He hadn’t uttered a single word since then, and he was expectantly waiting his turn for Hans to write down the address for Makkachin. 

Seung-Gil unceremoniously snatched the paper from Hans’s hands, before turning on his heels. Hans gulped at the harsh reaction, but none of the present persons would feel a single ounce of pity for him. Phichit was leaning on the wall, observing the scene quietly, and patted Seung-Gil’s shoulder as he reached the door to wait outside. 

Yuuri turned to Viktor, who looked trapped between two urges, launching himself at Hans for his own paper, or unsure whether it was still alright to nurture hope. 

Hans lifted his eyes at him, and a flash of comprehension crossed his features as he said, “I hadn’t sold yours yet.”

Viktor’s head jerked away in surprise. “What are you saying?” 

Yuuri narrowed his eyes when Hans rolled his. The galls he had to act all petulant and superior now, even though he was about to get condemned for dognapping. 

“I mean that it’s still here,” he scoffed condescendingly, eyeing Viktor up and down before moving away from the front desk. 

“She,” Viktor hissed, with a low and dangerous tone. 

Hans stopped dead in his track, blinking. “Excuse me?”

“She, not it,” Viktor shot back venomously. 

Yuuri didn’t hide his smile. Leave it to Viktor to have his priorities straight. 

Hans was stunned for a few instant, before regaining his composure and huffing is dismissal. He was about to snarl something, but was cut off when Yuuri decided to intervene. 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t aggravate my situation by pissing him off any more than he already is. Go get Makkachin and stop beating around the bush.”

Hans glared before turning around to the same hallway they’d been earlier. JJ followed him without notice, and Yuuri was grateful. He really did not want to have to chase this idiot if he decided to do something stupid. Viktor was quick to follow, and the room fell back in silence with both Phichit and Yuuri waiting patiently for the others to come back. 

Yuuri let out a loud sigh of relief. It seemed like things were turning out for the better, and the case was solved. He’d been in such a rush of emotions in the last few hours that it left him feeling drained, and incapable of really processing every single event. For now, the only thing he wanted to care about was that they’d finally managed to get to the bottom of that case. 

“You look cheery,” Phichit noted with a knowing smile. 

Yuuri smiled tiredly in answer, nodding. “Well, it’s been a long week, and we’re only halfway through it.”

“A lot did happen, that’s for sure!”

Yuuri was taken a little aback by the phrasing. He frowned, tilting is head to the side thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, a lot happened,” he simply said tentatively. Because that was true, but for Phichit to point such an obvious fact, he must have meant something else and Yuuri failed to see what. 

Phichit quirked an eyebrow, with the same mischievous expression he was always harboring to tease Yuuri. “Didn’t seem like it was entirely bad though.” 

Yuuri stayed mute. What in the world did he mean by that? 

“What do you mean?”

Phichit shook his head, chuckling a little. He didn’t look upset in any way, simply very much in the mood to go out of his way to tease Yuuri. Even if Yuuri was not entirely failing at not letting the stress from his earlier scare resurface by focusing on the happy success now, he still wasn’t feeling up to face Phichit’s teasing. Of course, his friend couldn’t exactly guess that, and Yuuri didn’t want to broach up the topic of what had occurred in the office earlier.

This train of thought along with Phichit’s words, led to the memory of what had happened _right after_ the massive panic attack. 

Yuuri felt his eyes grow wide as he finally fully realized what Viktor had done, and he threw a glance to the mouth of the hallway. He couldn’t help the blush that creeped up on his cheeks, and thank god it was dark and the pound was poorly lit or else he wouldn’t have survived Phichit’s inquisitive gaze. He could already feel it drilling into him. 

“Oh nothing really,” Phichit continued, his tone clearly indicating otherwise. 

Yuuri momentarily forgot the unwanted train of thoughts to focus on his friend’s words and shook his head. He was speaking by enigmas again. Phichit was particularly skilled for it, and Yuuri hated it. 

“You just gave me that little judgy hinty voice; what am I missing?” 

He was vaguely aware that his tone was slightly sharper than he had intended to be but he didn’t care. As he said it, a little voice in his head was screaming that he likely already knew what his friend meant. Like usual he ignored it. 

Phichit waved an eyebrow suggestively, and was about to answer when squeals of joys made them both snap their head at the entrance of the hallway. They easily could have waited where they were, but the laughs and coos were far too contagious not to take a look.

The three of them were grouped at the other end of the hallway: JJ already cuffing Hans, while Viktor was on the ground. A cage had been opened right next to him and out of it was Makkachin, jumping, barking, weeping as she fussed in Viktor’s arms, unable to stop moving. Viktor was doing his best to keep her in his arms, but he was just as emotional and excited as she was. He was half crying, half laughing, his arms going all around at once to pet Makka, kissing her, holding her close. 

Yuuri beamed at the side, warmth spreading in his chest. A quick glance at Phichit told him that his friend was just as happy for Viktor as he was. Perhaps happy wasn’t even the word. 

Yuuri felt ecstatic. The week since he came back from Philly had been erratic on many levels, and finally having the closure they all needed, and in the best way possible at that, was beyond satisfying. He remembered clearly how desperate and heartbroken Viktor had looked as he’d come for help, and seeing him now, completely overcome by the exact opposite emotions was a sight he was particularly happy to witness. 

His eyes got attracted by JJ pushing Hans in front of him as they made their way toward them. Hans looked deflated, a far cry of the lofty attitude he’d been pulling off earlier, and JJ was smirking with satisfaction. 

“I’m going with them, I don’t want Seung-Gil to try to electrocute that imbecile again,” Phichit announced to Yuuri as JJ passed in front of them, although his tone suggested he wouldn’t really have minded. 

Yuuri nodded, while JJ chuckled. “No risk I took the taser.”

“Yeah, not taking chances,” Phichit countered, and Yuuri raised an eyebrow at the weird excuse, but didn’t say anything. In all honesty he didn’t really care. 

Instead he stayed there, watching as Viktor and Makkachin were reunited. They hadn’t moved, and Viktor was fully sitting on the ground, holding his dog tightly while she was still crying, her tail weeping the air in excitement. He finally got up, walking half bent to be able to almost circle Makka’s neck with his arm, as if he was afraid she would vanish again if he made so much as a move away from her. 

Yuuri smiled at him when they got close enough, and Viktor beamed so brightly Yuuri got almost worried for cheeks cramps. He turned his eyes to Makka, who had been quick in recognizing him although they hadn’t seen each other in quite a long time. And just like Vicchan had done with Viktor, she half jumped on him, licking the hands he presented, nuzzling in his legs, and happily barking. 

“Hello girl,” he cooed, crouching down. “You know you scared us a lot? Hum? Your human was terrified, you know that?” he said a little teasingly, throwing a glance at Viktor in the process. He didn’t even react, simply smiling even more brightly, if that was even possible. 

He rose back up, and turned to Viktor. “Well there you go. We found her.”

Viktor huffed, looking disbelievingly at Yuuri. “We? You did! She might have been sold off or I don’t know where if not for you!”

Yuuri was taken a little aback by the sincerity with which Viktor proclaimed that. He did his best to hide the pride he felt swelling in his stomach too. Seriously what the hell? He was solving cases all the time, it wasn’t unusual to be praised for it! 

“You did help,” he lamely argued. 

“Barely,” Viktor half deadpanned, a small smile tugging his lips. “I would never have been able to find her if it wasn’t for you.”

“Well, I’m just glad it worked out.”

Viktor smiled at that, nodding in understanding, before he shuffled a little on his feet as if he was a little uncertain about what came next. 

Finally he looked back in Yuuri’s eyes, breathing in before speaking, as if he was a little uncertain. “I’ll give you the payment for the investigation tomorrow if that’s ok, I really didn’t bring anything with me tonight,” he tentatively explained. 

“Oh no, no it’s fine, you don’t have to pay me, I was glad to help!” 

The words were out before he even made any attempt at processing them. He was surprised at how fast he’d come to that conclusion, but his words couldn’t have been more genuine. He actually didn’t give a damn whether Viktor paid him or not anymore. Makkachin was found, she was safe and sound, and that was all that matter to him. 

“What? Really? But that was an actual job, I mean - it took time and-”

“Honestly Viktor, it’s fine,” Yuuri interrupted, raising his hand. “I really couldn’t have stayed out of it when I knew I could help. Besides, it didn’t even take that much time-”

He was cut off when Viktor suddenly threw an arm around his neck, pulling him close for barely a handful of seconds. “Thank you so much,” he whispered, before he released him. 

Yuuri was utterly and irrevocably stunned.

Alright, well that definitely not had been part of the options in his list of expected reactions.   
Suddenly he felt incredibly awkward, why exactly he had no idea, and he only had one wish: getting the hell out of here. Or more specifically away from Viktor. 

“Hum, yes I mean, sure,” he stuttered, as if English wasn’t his first language anymore. Viktor was observing him in question, as if scanning his face and wondering why Yuuri was acting off. 

“Ok, we should go,” Yuuri suddenly blurted out, and swiveled around to leave the hallway. He didn’t check if Viktor was actually following, but if the soft sound of claws clicking against the floor was any indications, he was. 

When he passed before Phichit, he regally ignored the smirk on his friend’s face and the whisper he addressed him, “‘Glad to help’, hah?”

***

After they all parted ways, Yuuri finally pulled in front of his house, exhausted. He allowed himself to take a moment to breathe before he left the car, leaning in the back of the seat, hands falling off the wheel and on his laps. All the stress and adrenaline of the day came crashing all at once, and the only thing he could focus on was the weariness that was coursing through his veins, making all his limbs as heavy as lead. 

He had known that eventually it would, that as soon as he didn’t have something to do in immediate urgency, all his so far contained emotions would pop like a balloon. What he hadn’t expect was how exhausting and crushing it would feel like. If he could stay there for at least the next month or so, he’d be happy. After a while, he realized his eyes had fallen looking into nothing, contemplating the blurry memories of the day. It seemed he couldn’t even recall exactly what he had seen per se, it was too confusing and happened way too fast. As if a veil was obscuring the events. Instead he was graced with a whirlwind of biting spikes of terror, stress and adrenaline, mixed with a bunch of bits and pieces of memory flashing before his eyes. 

And obviously Viktor. Viktor and the fact that he still couldn’t fully comprehend what the hell had happened for the sole reason that his mind couldn't wrap itself around the information. He briefly wondered why he could think about it without any embarrassment now, and why he’d blushed earlier. Perhaps because of Phichit? It wasn’t like he could quite remember it anyway. One moment he was close to passing out, and the next his head had cleared. It was as simple as that. Viktor could have shocked him, pour a cold-water bucket over his head or kissed him, it didn’t matter because he did not have any actual memory of the thing. Just the knowledge it happened. And the gratefulness that he’d prevented him from, you know, passing out. 

And then there was that hug. Which strangely enough, or funnily enough depending on how one regarded it, Yuuri felt much more awkward about than he had about the ‘kiss’. What came as quite the realization, was that he hadn’t actually minded that hug. But compiled with everything else, it came as one more exhibit that everything he’d taken for granted with Viktor was good to be trashed away. 

He surprised himself as he finally contemplated what he had suspected without really delving deeper into: who he had thought Viktor was and who he actually was; his own version of reality, and Viktor’s version – one he still didn’t understand.  
And with that, came the realization that he was at a crossroad. On the one hand he wanted to know the Viktor he had come across recently, the one who smiled easily and looked at Yuuri with life in his eyes rather than the half-dead scorn he usually sported. As soon as he formulated these thoughts he tensed. Because on the other hand, he didn’t want to risk being hurt again.

A soft knock made him jump and look out the window. His father was there, smiling gently. When had he arrived? 

Yuuri took a second to gather himself, and went to fumble with the door handle. His father moved aside as he pushed it open, and he grabbed his bag before getting out. 

“Hey kiddo,” he greeted, hands in his pants pockets. 

Yuuri offered a small smile. “Hey” was the only thing he had time to answer before his father made a step forward and engulfed him in a crushing hug. Yuuri instinctively leaned into it, reciprocating it without hesitation. 

He hadn’t realized how much he needed that before he’d received it, and he was very grateful for the sudden and unusual mark of affection. 

His father finally detached his arms, but left his hands on his shoulders, scanning Yuuri’s face with apprehension that was quickly replaced by pure worry. “I’m so sorry Yuu,” he breathed out, his voice cracking on his name. 

Yuuri jerked a little, frowning. Sorry? Why was he sorry?

“I’m the one who told you to stay in the office and left without even considering something like that could happen, I’m so sorry-”

“Wowow, dad no!” Yuuri interrupted, stepping back a little to make sure he could see his father properly. Why was he sorry about _that_? How could he even think it was his fault?

“No one could have ever predicted that would happen! And you telling me to stay in the office had nothing to do with it. It so happened I was there, but it could have been you or no one at all. It’s not the first time I’m staying at the office alone, and it certainly won’t be the last. So, truly, it had nothing to do with what you said-”

“But it does have something to do with it Yuu; you wanted to come with me, and if I’d let you, you would have been safe.”

“Dad honestly, you’re using the “what if” now? You’re the one who told me to never look at how things could have been “if only” we’d have acted differently.”

“I should have been able to forecast some sort of retaliation would have occurred,” his father finally said, with finality to his voice, laced with regret and bitterness. 

“Because this is a mafia investigation? I mean honestly-”

“No, because they spotted our bugs in their room this morning and probably managed to trace them back to us.”

Yuuri’s heart stopped. “They– what?”

His father closed his eyes shut for a second, breathing out deeply. “And I should have told you. Me wanting to keep you out of things as much as I could, led us to this situation. If you’d known, you could at least have been prepared.”

Yuuri couldn’t say anything. His father had known this since that morning and he hadn’t mentioned it? Why would he do that? On hindsight, considering the reluctance he’d manifested over letting him on the case it seemed understandable, but truly this was on a whole new level. Regardless, and strangely enough, he couldn’t bring himself to be upset. 

Besides, his father only knew that the bugs had been found, it wasn’t as if he’d heard them plotting their murder intent. 

The only thing he could feel was exhaustion, and he didn’t have the strength to do more than nod mutely. 

“The only thing I can say, is how grateful I am for having a son able to think his way through anything”

Yuuri smiled at that, but as he looked back up in his father’s eyes, he saw how they were glazed over with the emotions he was doing his best not to let overflow. He opened his mouth to protest and try to erase that look of pain on his father’s face but he was shushed gently when he came cupping his face. 

“Don’t,” he said as if he’d read in Yuuri’s mind. “You shouldn’t be the one comforting me, I should be the one ensuring you’re never in that kind of situation because of me.”

Yuuri took that as an opportunity to try and dissolve the previous tension. “Does that mean I can still end up in these situations if it’s not your fault?” he teased and his father cocked his head to the side in fond exasperation, before chuckling at the cheekiness. 

“Come here,” he said as he engulfed Yuuri in another hug.

They stayed like this for a little while, simply allowing them to forget the fiasco of that afternoon and relaxing a little. They finally made their way over to the front door. 

“Your grand-parents are asleep, but I think your mother wanted to stay up for you. She doesn’t know the details of what happened, and unless you think otherwise, I believe it’s safer and better if we don’t tell her more than necessary.”

“Safer?”

His father stopped in his track, turning to Yuuri with an incredibly dark and serious expression, his eyes almost scared. 

“She’d be very capable of locking us both in a federal secret prison to keep both of us safe, and that’s not mentioning in what state we’d found these mafia after she’s done with them for attempting to hurt her baby.”

Yuuri grimaced at the thought of that, a cold sweat running down his spine. Oh yes definitely she’d be very capable of that, and that was if they were lucky. Otherwise they’d end up on the moon away from anything hurtful. He shivered and was quick to say “Yeah no I agree, let’s not mention this ever again!” 

“Ah Yuu-chan! Finally back!” she said as soon as they passed the threshold of the door. He was welcomed with another round of hugs. He couldn’t help but thinking this was compensation from the deities for the mortal fright they’d put him through that afternoon. 

In all honesty though, he’d rather avoid ever finding himself in this kind of situation, even if that would earn him all the hugs in the world. But as things were at the moment, he wasn’t going to complain. 

“Hi Mom,” he greeted, his voice a little muffled by how squizzed he was against his mother. 

She released him, keeping him at arm's length to see him better, and proceeded in analyzing him with such intensity he almost felt self-conscious. 

She wasn’t saying anything, and to be honest, perhaps Yuuri would have liked it better if she had. Because this was just too nerve wracking. 

There was something in her eyes that made Yuuri look away. Did she know about what happened? She usually never prodded in any of their investigations, unless they would share about them themselves. She didn’t have time to nag them about it, and Yuuri suspected it wasn’t one of her interest. What was though, like his father so poetically put it, was if her baby boy ending up in danger. 

With the way she was looking at him right now, Yuuri could have sworn she already knew it all, and was trying to read the names of who it was that had endangered him right from his face. He refrained from throwing a weary glance to his father, not sure what good that would do. 

When she finally spoke, Yuuri couldn’t help but startle.   
“You’ve been coming home late lately Yuuchan, is everything ok?” 

She’d inclined her head slightly on the side, eyes soft and smile tugging her lips. Yuuri breathed out, responding to the smile. 

“Yes, just a little tired, but it all worked out I’ve solved the case I was working on.”

“You have?” his father exclaimed, making them both look in his direction. 

Yuuri nodded, and his mother to congratulates him, “That’s good, I’m glad you did. You should rest up now though, and be careful.”

He couldn’t help but notice how subtle worry lines had claimed her forehead as she advised the last words. Did she, or didn’t she know? Objectively it didn’t matter, but the absence of answer was nagging at him like the smell of onions would claw on his hands whenever he’d helped with dinner. He nodded, and kissed her cheeks, before walking over to his room. 

“Oh Yuuri?” He turned around at his father’s call, face expectant. “Will you come by the office tomorrow after school? I have to talk to you about something.”

Yuuri nodded easily. “Good. Sleep well kiddo.” 

He smiled, nodding again. “Good night.” 

After he closed the door, he didn’t waste time in kicking off his shoes, dropping his bag and leaving his clothes on the floor. He put on the old shirt he often wore to bed, and was quick to settle between the welcoming and warm sheets. Instantaneously, a relieved sigh escaped him, and all the tensions he’d accumulated in his muscles melted away.

Before he allowed himself to drift into unconsciousness he made a quick list of what he needed to do the next day. Seung-Gil had begged him to come with him to get Yun as early as possible, and even though they both started early, he really couldn’t have said no. He had a free period early that morning, and didn’t need to be at school until a little bit later. He didn’t know for Seung-Gil but he wouldn’t be the one stopping him if he wanted to go get his dog as soon as possible. He would have done the same thing in his place. 

On a whole different level, he wanted to know why exactly Anya had been talking with Hans. It was _probably_ nothing, but his mind had already made too many links for him to ignore. And by ‘probably’ he meant ‘hopefully’. 

The easiest way was probably to go see Hans rather than try and talk to Anya. She was not exactly an approachable person and they had never really interacted before. Going to talk to her about this out of the blue would be completely absurd. 

And as much as he wanted to find a way to get to that information, sleep was claiming him, making itself known as his eyelid were getting heavier and the stinging sensation behind his eyes increased as seconds ticked by. He allowed his eyes to flutter close, welcoming the rest, and quite frankly, he couldn’t remember anything after that.

***

Seung-Gil threw a wary glance behind his shoulder, and Yuuri quirked an eyebrow. 

“We’ve come too far to stop now,” he said reassuringly, nudging his head in direction of the door in front of which they were standing. 

Seung-Gil gulped, clearly debating whether he should be excited or terrified it might be a false hope. As promised, Yuuri had come with him, and even if he’d told himself he wouldn’t intervene, he would knock on that door if Seung-Gil continued hesitating any longer. 

It seemed he wouldn’t need to: Seung-Gil had taken a resolute step forward, and as if to avoid giving himself the opportunity to give up last minute, he sharply knocked twice. 

Yuuri noticed how he retracted his hand away from the door, as if it would burn him if he touched it too long. He couldn’t exactly blame him, and he hoped with all he could that Hans hadn’t played a trick on them. The door suddenly opened, and Seung-Gil gasped in surprise. 

Had he not expected anyone to be home? Yuuri supposed he did, because having someone opening a door after knocking on that same door was not his definition of surprising. 

“Hum, hello,” Seung-Gil stammered, losing his usual cold composure. “I’m here because I think you found my do- oh my god Yun!”

A big Siberian husky had barked from the back of the house and somehow had managed to cross it in barely a handful of seconds, launching himself in Seung-Gil’s awaiting arms. Like Makkachin the day before, he was half-crying, half-barking excitedly and Seung-Gil wasn’t giving him any opportunity to get further away than five centimeters. 

The lady who had opened was slightly stunned over the excitement, but seemed quite pleased if her small smile was anything to go by. Before she would start wondering what exactly had brought all this about, Yuuri decided to take the matter in his own hands. 

He circled around his friend, and the woman turned her head calmly at him when he arrived in front of her. 

“Hello, sorry for all that,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I believe a certain Hans sold you this dog? He was in fact in no right to do such thing,” he explained after she nodded. She frowned a little at that, looking at Yuuri with polite but confused curiosity. “He was stealing dogs in order to earn big rewards, and those he deemed not generous enough, he would sell their dogs off instead. Yun is such a case, and my friend here has been looking for him for over a week.”

As he explained, her face lit up in understanding, before her eyebrows knitted together again. 

Yuuri feared for a second she would protest the legitimacy of the sale, but instead, was taken off guard by the vehemence with which the declared, “I hope he’s been stopped! This is unforgivable! Stealing dogs; what’s going to be next” she huffed as if this was the most dishonorable act that could be committed. And in a sense, Yuuri couldn’t really disagree. He smiled a little amused.

“He was, we arrested him yesterday. This is the only reason we’re here today,” he added, nudging his head in Seung-Gil’s and Yun’s direction. 

The woman’s face softened again as she looked back at them, and then she levelled a satisfied glance at Yuuri. “Good! Well if I have to give up this fluff-ball, I am very glad it’s to someone like this!” 

Yuuri answered her smile, knowing full well what she meant. For all that Seung-Gil usually displayed a stern and cold expression, he seemed like a completely different person now: care-free and open in his happiness to have found his dog. He was laughing and crying at the same time, just like Viktor had been the day before, but seeing such a behavior from Seung-Gil was somewhat more surprising than coming from Viktor. 

Looking at him like that now was such a contrast from his outburst of the day before or when they’d thought Yun was dead, and Yuuri really couldn't have been happier to witness it. Yun was all safe and sound, just like Makkachin, and both had found their home back. Yuuri had helped and actually succeeded and considering what he thought of his odds, he truly was ecstatic to see how well it all played out. 

Despite the little voice in his head reminding him he still had another ongoing case, he would indulge himself into ignoring priorities for the moment. And besides, this could very well be argued to be a priority too. After the efforts he’d put into it, he wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity to enjoy the result of his work. 

Seung-Gil finally seemed to remember that there was a world existing around him, and he lifted his head, meeting Yuuri’s eyes. His face split into the largest grin Yuuri had ever seen, and he nodded respectfully with an immense gratitude obvious in the gleam of his eyes. Yuuri mirrored the nod: that was enough. More than enough. Seung-Gil wasn’t one to demonstrate his emotions when he could avoid it, and this was so much more than what he would have given to anyone else. Seung-Gil had never expected to receive help to find his dog, in fact Yuuri suspected that he’d thought he couldn’t afford it. To have Yuuri help without asking anything in return, and actually managing to get his dog back after all his hopes had been crushed was unbelievable and Yuuri was very proud to have contributed to that. What had started as a pain in the ass ended up being the highlight of his week. 

He remembered the expression that Viktor had harbored the day before. Yes. Definitely worth it. Really if someone had told him how he would feel right now, he probably would have referred them to a mental asylum. 

***

After a little while of Seung-Gil reuniting with his dog and Yuuri conversing with the lady, they finally bid their goodbye and proceeded to leave. Seung-Gil couldn’t really bring his dog to school, so they agreed on dropping him off at the co-op. The dog had been there countless times before so it wouldn’t be so scary and disorienting to be separated from his human not even an hour after finding him back, and his manager Kathy would be happy to keep an eye on him. 

Yuuri drove them to school, and knowing they were already missing first period, they didn’t really need to hurry. Yuuri had barely left the car when he started a little upon Seung-Gil blurting out something so fast he couldn’t make out what he’d meant to say. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

Seung-Gil’s eyes were nailed to the floor for a second, and he looked like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to repeat or not. 

“Thank you so much Yuuri,” he said again, lifting his head to look at Yuuri properly. “I’m so glad Viktor thought I was the culprit for Makkachin’s disappearance; you’d never have helped otherwise because I probably wouldn’t even have thought of asking. I do things by myself usually, and I didn’t think anything in particular could help. I went to check at the sheriff’s station but they simply told me it wasn’t the first case like that on their hands and that it really wasn’t something they could ‘bother’ themselves with at the moment.”

“They said _that_?” Yuuri asked, dumbfounded by the poor choice of words. 

“Oh they were civil about it, but once you remove the sugar coating that’s what you’re left with,” Seung-Gil retorted bitterly. 

Yuuri hummed, understanding exactly Seung-Gil’s sentiment. 

“I’m just glad it all played out the way it did,” he added, and Yuuri noticed how his voice was shaking a little under the joy of it all. 

He chuckled. “I know, I was telling myself the exact same thing earlier”

Seung-Gil smiled at that, but didn’t seem like he would add anything. “Well, I’ll see you later then,” Yuuri said on a cheery tone before the silence could drag itself out. Seung-Gil nodded his ascent with a smile, and Yuuri took it as its cue to walk off towards his next class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They've got their dogs baaack! :D 
> 
> I really felt a lot like Yuuri does about seeing the boys being reunited with Yun and Makka when I wrote this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it too! :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like perhaps I should warn you that this is a rather intense chapter?

Yuuri went over to his locker to grab the books he would need for French, while the hallway was slowly filling up with students pouring out of the classrooms in the same usual chatter. 

For the first time in a week, he finally felt relatively at peace. Sure, he was still worrying over Anya’s involvement with Hans and the Sulliman case. On top of that, next week would mark the beginning of that orgy of tension known as midterms, and he will definitely feel it. 

But not today. No, today he’d gone with Seung-Gil get Yun back, and yesterday he’d seen Viktor get Makka back. Both were far better results than he’d hoped, and the success was only made sweeter by the relief he’d felt upon discovering both dogs were safe and sound. 

He really had to make a conscious effort not to fall down the rabbit hole regarding what happened to him in the office the day before however. A nagging bundle of tension was itching in the back of his mind and he loathed it.

He would lie if he pretended that he wanted to stay out of it, even after the panic attack he’d had to go through because of it. His curiosity wouldn’t let it go, but more than that, he now knew too much. Everyday more and more puzzling elements were coming to add themselves upon what he already couldn’t understand, and no matter how he put it, he wouldn’t be able to let go without some closure. 

He could allow himself a day though.

He hadn’t stopped moving across the city all week long, trying to figure the shit out of the dogs’ whereabouts while dealing with his own issues with Viktor. He thought back to how strongly he had reacted when Yuri had brought the topic to him the week before, and couldn’t help but smile over how extensively things had changed with Viktor. He wasn’t sure if he could call that friendship yet, but it was a far cry from the passive aggressive hate that had qualified their relationship for the last five years. 

And he was glad about it. 

He’d been reluctant and skeptical, and now, he kinda wanted to see where this would go, like Viktor had put it. The small smile that had claimed his lips subdued somewhat as he considered all the stones left unturned still. It was to be expected, but it acted like water into wine, constraining the contentment over the recent developments. Yuuri knew they had to broach the topic of what had transpired between them five years ago, but he had to admit that sometimes he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know anymore. 

He shook his head, trying to get rid of that line of thought. He brought his bag back on his shoulder as he closed his locker. 

“Ready for French?”

Yuuri turned around to see Viktor standing there, smiling at him. It looked genuine too, the worry that had been ever present in Viktor’s eyes since the week before was now gone, replaced by a childlike impish gleam. 

And Yuuri would definitely be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased to have contributed to the change. A sight that, a week ago, would have likely left him indifferent and that now filled him with warmth at the pit of his stomach. He felt himself smiling in return without conscious thought.

“I was born ready,” he said jokingly. “I still don’t get why the hell _you_ ’re taking French and not, I dunno, Spanish. You’re fluent in French already.”

Viktor gave him a cocky look, arching one eyebrow at him. “Exactly, it means I can get As without studying,” he whispered with mischief coating his features. 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, eliciting a laugh from Viktor who looked a little too proud of himself. “No but more seriously,” Viktor said again, tugging Yuuri’s attention back to him. “I’m planning on being a vet and-“

“You are?” Yuuri had to do a double take over the new information. That he didn’t know what Viktor wanted to do after graduation wasn’t too surprising by any means, but that didn’t mean it didn’t come as less of a surprise. 

Viktor’s face lit up and he tried to contain his smile, nodding his head excitedly. “So I’m taking various AP classes, and for most I’ve been fine really, bur apparently AP chemistry didn’t agree with that…” he explained with a frustrated grimace. 

Yuuri chuckled at the intonation. 

“Which is why I’m really not feeling guilty about not extending my language baggage, and instead focusing on what I will definitely use later, you know.”

Yuuri hummed, nodding. “Yeah definitely, put like that it makes total sense. I just had no idea about all that,” he said suggestively. 

“Yeah,” Viktor breathed out. “I guess you didn’t hah.”

They shared a glance, and Yuuri wouldn’t have been able to translate into words how that felt like. It was like they were both on the same page for once. After Viktor’s revelations, two days earlier, Viktor had gone out of this way – or at least out of his usual way – to act as normal as possible. A normal that Yuuri thought they’d lost with their “argument” long ago. 

And surprising himself, Yuuri had gone along with it. He still had more questions than he could keep tabs on, and not a single clue of their answer but it felt refreshing to not be on edge whenever they saw each other anymore, trying to find the one thing to piss off the other. 

This “I guess you didn’t” was the acknowledgement that things were changing, but would never be quite the same. And by the look of it, none of them really knew what to do with that information. 

They both snapped their head back forward when their path was suddenly blocked… by none other than Anya. 

Of all people that could have end up meeting them in the middle of the hallway, she was the last Yuuri would have expected. And considering the gob-smacked expression on Viktor’s face, the same went for him. 

“Hi Yuuri.”

“Oh hum hi,” he said, vaguely aware that he was the only one being addressed. He threw a side glance to Viktor, whose face had closed off entirely and Yuuri recognized instantly the look that he had been on the receiving end from for the last few years. 

What had Anya done for Viktor to be this antagonistic against her? Didn’t they hang out more often than not? 

Viktor tugged him out of his musings, and he couldn’t do more than to look between the two. 

“What do you want now Anya?” 

“From you, nothing Nikiforov,” she spat, slowly turning to him, her eyes suddenly darker and narrowed. 

Yuuri frowned, but judged preferable to stay silent and observe how this will play out. There was definitely something wrong with how Viktor and Anya were interacting, but he didn’t want to push Anya away just yet, and losing the opportunity to know what the hell it was all about.   
She turned her attention away from Viktor, and gave Yuuri a sickly sweet smile as she did so, cocking her head slightly to the side. 

“I’m here to talk to you for a minute, and I think you’d rather do it in private.”

He quirked an eyebrow at that. The galls she had to just _demand_ with that tone. She surely was used to get everything she wanted. Except now she would hit a bone. 

“That’s literally the first time you’re speaking to me Anya – not that I’m complaining,” he quickly added, making a face for good measure, and he swore her smile faltered very subtly, “and I don’t think that whatever it is you want to say warrants us going somewhere private. So, out with it, and if not, I really couldn’t care less.”

He walked past her, without so much as a look back, although he took notice that Viktor had fallen into step with him. 

“Fine.”

He stopped dead in his track, slowly turning back to stare at her, face expectant. She looked upset at being set aside as such, and as she closed the few meters Yuuri had put between them she didn’t hide it in the least. 

The act was down, and she did look like the bitch Yuko and Mila made her out to be. 

“You might want to ask your dad about his extra hours,” she spat with a rictus. “I wanted to warn you because I don’t think his behavior is appropriate and I wanted to do it with tact but apparently you’re set on being an ass. Maybe you really shouldn’t spend so much time with Viktor after all. You were a lot nicer when _he_ wasn’t around.”

If Yuuri wasn’t so used to controlling himself in front of others he probably would have reacted more strongly upon hearing her out. What the hell was she referring to regarding his dad, and how did she even know who he was in the first place? And if that wasn’t enough, what about that bullshit about him being nice and Viktor rubbing off on him? 

Apparently Viktor was just as surprised, but he didn’t react as coolly as Yuuri did because he’d made a step forward ready to snap at her, but Yuuri instinctively grabbed his wrist. It didn’t seem to be necessary though, because that’s all Viktor did, and Anya barely flinched at the move. 

In fact, she actually chuckled at the display, crossing her arms and looking up and down on them. 

“I thought you guys hated each other, isn’t that true Yuuri?” 

Yuuri swore he felt Viktor’s fist clench as he was still holding his wrist. He wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of answering that. It was pure provocation and he wasn’t going to go for it any more than he would let Viktor lose his cool even more than he already had. 

“But that’s good actually,” she continued, seemingly enjoying her little game. “At least Yuuri you’ll have someone else than that idiotic nerd you consider your best friend to turn to after I tell you this.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but clench his jaw at the blatant insult against Phichit. She took a step closer, and he tightened his hold on Viktor’s wrist. All traces of smile had disappeared from her face by now and she was just looking at his straight in the eyes with a cold and harsh gleam. 

“Your dad has been seeing a woman recently, and I can assure you that the woman I saw _wasn’t_ your mother; I would have recognized the body mass. No, she was much taller and thinner. Actually, she might have looked like _your_ mother Viktor,” she added, poison in her words as she turned towards him. 

She paused, admiring the damage she was starting to cause. Yuuri was fuming over the blatant disdain she’d put in the insult against both his parents; his father to even suggest he would ever do something like that, and his mother for insulting her physical appearance. He was doing his best not to show how mad the blow made him, and the task was made twice as hard by the little control Viktor had over his own emotions. 

“You’re full of shit!” he snapped angrily, and Yuuri exhaled lowly upon noticing how his eyes started shimmering. 

“Oh yeah you’re right. It couldn’t have been her, cause she left, didn’t she?” Anya relentlessly attacked and Yuuri had the urge to slap her. “Too bad. It would have been ironic for both the sons and the parents to get…comfortable with each other.” 

She swiveled around barely an instant after staring at Viktor dead in the eyes, and left without further ado, leaving them both in her wake. 

Yuuri looked up at the ceiling, exhaling deeply to try and calm himself down. He had no idea why she’d decided to pick up the argument, but it was classic intimidation. Whatever had pissed her off must have been big for her to decide coming after them both in such a way. 

He turned around upon hearing a shaky breath next to him, only to have Viktor rip his wrist out of his grasp and walking a few steps away. Yuuri couldn’t blame him. Even if they had stopped spending time together around the time that Viktor’s mother left, he wasn’t such an idiot as to think it hadn’t left a scar. He remembered her as being sweet and bubbly, but she also could be firm and stern while always being fair. Anya had just ripped open something Yuuri just realized had never closed. 

Viktor passed his hand through his hair, messing the ponytail, while holding himself against the wall of lockers with his other hand, back to Yuuri. 

“You know what she said wasn’t true, right?” Yuuri said, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I don’t know what the hell is her deal, but I know for a fact that she was lying. There is no way that my father would ever cheat on my mother for one; he loves her more than his own life.”

He had gotten closer to Viktor. As much as he wanted to give him space, there were still people in the hallway and he didn’t want to add to the stares by speaking about this too loudly. He doubted anyone really had paid attention to their conversation before, people had been busy getting from one room to the other, getting their books and catching up in the hallway. But the first bell had rung already, there were fewer people now and Anya hadn’t been exactly discreet. They would likely pay much more attention if he started speaking loud enough for Viktor to hear at this distance. 

He leaned on the locker next to where Viktor was still attempting to get himself together, trying to figure out what to say next. He didn’t know much about how Viktor had handled his mother’s departure. He didn’t know why she had left, and rumors weren’t really a good basis for realistic assumptions. 

As it turned out, he didn’t have to think about anything because Viktor beat him to it. He turned to face him, eyes vaguely glazed over, and besides the sharp gleam to them, he looked fine. So Yuuri stayed silent, waiting for him to get a grip. 

“It’s the third time this week she’s pulling a stunt like that.”

Yuuri frowned. “What do you mean?” 

Viktor sighed, closing his eyes briefly, clearly upset but Yuuri knew better than to take it personally. “She’s been messing with me about Makka and about you mostly.”

Yuuri winced. Makka? Why would Anya, of all people, ask about Makka? 

“Hum ok. Do you know why?”

He shook his head, pursing his lips. “No idea,” he sighed, tone vaguely defeated. 

“I thought you guys were friends though.”

The words earned him a sharp look that took him a little by surprise. “What?”

“We’re not friends.” 

Yuuri’s eyes widen at Viktor’s tone. Ok. Then why the hell were they all spending time together? He’d seen Anya with Viktor plenty of times before. In fact, the first time he’d seen Anya, it had been at Viktor’s house, before she transferred to their school. 

He felt a little guilty about insisting but he needed to understand, and as things were, he really couldn’t. 

“Why are you hanging out with her then?” 

Viktor sighed again, straightening back up and turning to face him. “I don’t, Georgi does. And _he_ is my friend, along with Chris’ and JJ’s and the rest of us. He doesn’t let her go out of his sight long, I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

“Painfully aware,” he muttered thinking back to all the time Yuko had used his arms to evacuate her frustration over Georgi’s love declarations. It brought a smile on Viktor’s lips before he continued. 

“Yeah I know right, Who isn’t? But regardless, that means she and her friends end up spending time with us too. To be honest, I don’t like the way she’s behaving regarding Georgi, but otherwise she was never that bad. It’s only recently that she started pestering me and getting on my nerves whenever she feels like it.”

He hadn’t imagined that at all, which wasn’t too surprising considering he had barely spent time with the group. Or at least not enough time for him to actually pick up on these things. One thing he’d give Anya, is that she was hiding her game pretty well. 

It didn’t explain why she would go out of her way to taunt Viktor about Makka. And extend the same courtesy to him in fact. 

Bringing it up again wouldn’t help though, as Viktor didn’t seem to know anything more. 

“You know what, it’s fine. Let’s just go to French, we’re late already,” Viktor said, nudging his head towards the other end of the hallway.

***

Saying that focusing on the “accord du participe passé” after that encounter with Anya was hard was the understatement of the year. Yuuri was baffled over the nerve Anya had to just blow this thing on them without any good reason, and despite having a little over no elements of answer, his mind was still pulling his attention towards trying to figure out why. 

Well there was that, and the fact that French was evil , and participe passé was just a very good representation of that fact. Mrs Baranovskaya had assigned ten exercises, and he’d gotten them all wrong. At least his misery was amusing a certain silver-head, which all things considered, was progress from his earlier mood drop. 

Yuuri was slumped on his table, head resting on his notebook full of red ink because of all the mistakes he’d made and questioning the meaning of life, when he heard a chuckle. He initially thought it was Phichit, because that ass was always the first one to make fun of him. But in that particular case, Phichit was just as depressed as he was and he was currently bumping his head on his desk. 

So Yuuri turned his head to try and spot who else had laughed. Viktor was throwing glances behind his shoulder towards the pair of them, an expression that clearly said “I empathize with your misery, but it’s still funny”. 

Yuuri deadpanned, and resisted the urge to stick his tongue at him. That jerk was bilingual and dared to laugh at them, poor souls? But he couldn’t help the small smile that was making its way on his lips though.

Apparently, Viktor managed to read his expression because he lifted one eyebrow in a playful but challenging manner, and added a wink for good measure. _Seriously?_ Yuuri rolled his eyes playfully, and Viktor let out a chuckle again and turned back to face his own desk. 

Yuuri put his head back on his arms, a smile definitely etched on his lips, face towards his best friend who was eyeing him with a curious expression. 

“What?” Yuuri mouthed, to avoid bringing the attention of their teacher on him. Phichit looked back and forth between Viktor and him, and then wiggled his eyebrows. Yuuri’s shoulders deflated in exasperation, staring at his friend in disbelief. For someone who’d been so critical of his decision to help Viktor, he seemed a little too enthusiastic about it all now.   
Yuuri shook his head, and didn’t even try to contain another eye roll which had Phichit smirking impishly. 

Deciding it was best not to acknowledge him further, Yuuri went back to his moping over French grammar, which all things considered, was still better than trying to fend off his best friend over his dramatic lack of tact. 

But even that wasn’t a good enough distraction against the rest of his preoccupations. Last week he couldn’t wait for Makka to be found so that he could go back to being away from Viktor. How did all of this suddenly become the least of his worries? 

Finding Makka: checked.   
Getting away from Viktor: didn’t look like it was going to happen, and for some reason he wasn’t sure he wanted to anymore. 

By any means though, his life had definitely not gone back to normal, and if anything it was becoming more and more **ab** normal. In the span of a week, he had ended up facing things he could never have imagined, and it earned him the biggest fear of his life. Sure, he had been the one wanting to try and help his father with the Sulliman case, and he had been warned over the danger it represented. Despite this, Yuuri had ignored the warning, or perhaps overlooked it, was a better word for it, and he’d been cocky enough to think he could take it on. 

Well, flash news: grave mistake. And even if he was calmer about it all now, he could still remember very clearly what state all of this had put him in, flashes of the panic attack coming back to him whenever he closed his eyes. 

And now, to top it all off, there was Anya; butting in in matters that did not concern her in the least, just for the sake of being a bitch. Yuuri sighed, not really having a solution because it wasn’t exactly a problem per se. More of an inconvenience. His eyes drifted to Viktor, who at least, seemed to feel better now. 

The bell rang and all students started to get up, going through their stuff to put it all in their bags. 

“I want the next ten exercises done and emailed to me before the weekend everyone,” their teacher announced and earned a concert of grumbling. “The participe passé is in the material for next week’s midterm, and I want everyone to be well prepared. Any students failing to produce this assignment will fail the midterm automatically.”

This week kept getting better and better. 

*****

“Let me get this straight,” Yuuko said for the third time already. 

At least now she wasn’t screaming anymore. “Viktor lost Makkachin-”

“He didn’t lose her, she was dognapped,” Yuuri corrected tiredly, his head leaned in his hand. 

“-and he came to _you_ to help him find her. And then you ended up not finding one but two missing dogs, and along the way you became friends again?” she continued without caring in the least that Yuuri had interrupted, and squinting her eyes in disbelief.

Yuuri let out a skeptical sigh. “I wouldn’t say friends,” he said lamely and Phichit snorted. 

“Fine, what would _you_ say then?” 

Yuuri glared at him, but as always Phichit was completely undeterred. The only reason why he couldn’t add anything was because Takeshi slammed his hand on his back playfully. 

“Come on Phichit don’t tease him like that, he’ll blush!”

“I don’t blush!”

“Sure you do!” Yuuko chimed in.

“Not helping!” 

By then, Mila had doubled over in laughter and Minami was squealing over the providential reconciliation. Yuuri knew he wouldn’t win any argument they would throw at him, and he rolled his eyes in defeat, slumping down on his crossed arms on the table. 

“Thanks,” a small voice said next to him, and he looked back up, slightly startled. Mila immediately jumped on the opportunity to tease the newcomer. 

“Oh here’s little Yurio!” she exclaimed in a fake cooing voice. 

“Shut up hag!” Yuri snapped angrily, which only amused her more. Yuuri refrained from rolling his eyes again and instead focused on the blond. 

“What for Yurio?” he asked gently, hoping it would spare him a verbal joust. The blond’s shoulders relaxed as he turned back to Yuuri, even though he was decisively not looking at him in the eyes. He fidgeted for a few moments, popping the joints of his fingers, before finally meeting Yuuri’s eyes. He had a fierce gleam in them, and Yuuri barely concealed the smile that wanted to creep up on his face. 

Oh he knew full well why Yuri was thanking him. He had been the one asking to be nice to Viktor in the first place; him coming to thank Yuuri right after he’d found Makkachin couldn’t be for any over reason than this. 

“Thanks for helping my brother.”

It didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to hear it though. 

Yuuri smiled and nodded resolutely. “My pleasure,” he answered, nudging the blond’s arm with his fist. The smile that lit up Yuri’s face didn’t escape Yuuri, even though barely a handful of moments later it was gone. Yuri swiveled on his feet, and went back to join his friends at another table. One of them nodded seemingly stoically when Yuri came back, but Yuuri recognized him to be Yuri’s best friend, and vaguely wondered if the reason why Yuri came to him was his doing. It didn’t really matter, but Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised if it was the case. 

Suddenly Takeshi brought him back to reality. “So, what now? Are you guys going to eat lunch together or something?”

Yuuri deadpanned. “I thought you asked Phichit not to tease!”

Takeshi took an offended look, raising his hands in protest. “I’m not teasing, I’m just asking a legitimate question! Besides, I’ve known you the longest, I’m entitled to it!” 

Phichit gasped. “I know him better!” 

Takeshi snapped his head around. “Says who?” he nothing but screamed, and Phichit almost shot up to his feet. He was half the size of Takeshi, but it wasn’t under any doubts that he could be just as terrifying. 

“Says I! You spend more time with Chris at practice or making out with Yuuko than with Yuuri!”

Yuuko’s eyes widened at being involved in an argument she hadn’t asked for. Mila was hysterically laughing again, patting her friend’s shoulder as if to console her, while Takeshi was fuming. 

And in the middle of all that, was Yuuri, practically beaming at having been forgotten for a second. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity to make his escape, he swiftly swung his legs around the metal bench. He winked at his cousin who’d been unusually quiet for a few minutes now, and Minami barely contained his laugh. 

Yuuri was already at ten meters away from the table that he could still hear them yell bloody murder as clearly as if he’d been sitting with them. He sighed, relieved to have been able to escape, but startled a little when someone joined him. 

“What was all that?” Viktor asked with an amused expression. 

Yuuri chuckled, rolling his eyes as he said, “You don’t wanna know.”

Or rather, _I don’t really want to explain_. Whatever they’d become over this whole thing, Yuuri wasn’t sure he could name it yet and he didn’t want to have to explain something he didn’t understand himself. Avoiding mentioning how the argument started was self-preservation instincts since it would inevitably entail to explain what the discussion leading up to it had been. 

Viktor hummed in understanding, before staying silent. Again, Yuuri was surprised at how far from uncomfortable the silence between them was. He didn’t doubt even for a second that had this happened at the beginning of the week, he would have done everything in his power to escape the awkwardness that would have resulted. 

“Thank you again,” Viktor finally spoke again, and Yuuri turned his head to look at him while they continued walking, emerging in a deserted open hallway. Viktor was smiling, and his eyes didn’t harbor the haunted look Yuuri had noticed the first time they spoke, the week before. 

“I saw my brother talking to you. I was wondering; is he the reason why you accepted to help me?” 

The tone was simply curious, and Yuuri couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips. “In a way,” he started, trying to figure out how he should explain it. “He did come to me, asking to be nice to you.”

Viktor quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at that, and Yuuri replied by a pointed look to dissipate his doubts. 

“I must say, I didn’t expect that. You’d been acting weird – I mean weirder than usual,” he added, flashing a teasing look at Viktor who rolled his eyes playfully. “But that Yurio come to me to ask to help you, I definitely didn’t expect. And then you came to me and I’m pretty certain my brain court-circuited.”

Viktor’s smile broke into a full but quiet laughter at the phrasing, his head rolling backwards a little. Yuuri waited a little for him to calm down before continuing, decisively ignoring how pleasing it was to see Viktor laugh so care-freely again. 

“But I think mostly I couldn’t not help when it came to Makkachin. Initially I really didn’t want to help _you_ ,” he explained and Viktor’s eyes veiled with a more serious, albeit listening, look. 

Yuuri’s eyes fell on the ground as he debated whether he should tell Viktor what had crossed his mind at the time. All about why helping him had been such a hard pill to swallow… He’d never abandon Makkachin, and it felt like he was doing a service to Yuri. But having to deal with Viktor, and more specifically what had transpired between them, had been hard to come to terms with. The conversation would be needed eventually but he didn’t feel like going into any details as of now. 

“It was for Makkachin though,” he repeated stubbornly, vaguely aware that part of his brain was sulking at his cowardice. Viktor had come to him and shared details about his thoughts and feelings over their falling out, and Yuuri wanted to trust him with his own version too. But for one reason or another, that he apparently still couldn’t quite place, he couldn’t find the courage to do so. If Viktor noticed his internal struggle, he didn’t mention it, accepting the truth Yuuri was giving him without a word. 

“I’ll never thank you enough for your help,” Viktor reiterated after a few seconds, the words hanging as if he wanted to add something. “And not only for Makkachin, you know… For Anya earlier,” he added, his tone of voice taking on a rising edge, making Yuuri wonder if he was being asked a question. 

He didn’t comment though, as Viktor opened his mouth as though to add something. He didn’t. They’d slowed down their pace for some reason, and he sat down on the nearest bench. Yuuri barely hesitated in following him, surprising himself somewhat. 

A strange silence, expectant, seemed to grow thick between them, much to Yuuri’s curiosity. Viktor had closed his mouth before seating on the edge of the bench, and now, with his eyes riveted to his clasped hands on his knees he looked like something was bothering him. The silence was getting heavier with Viktor’s hesitation to speak further. By observing him from the corner of his eye, Yuuri could clearly see how his stance was tense, as if he was trying – and seemingly failing – to find the correct words. Or perhaps the courage to voice them. 

“You know my mother left when I was 12.”

Yuuri’s head snapped around in surprised, gasping softly. He stared at Viktor who’d turned too, meeting him with his features drained from the earlier tension. He looked resigned to whatever he was going to explain. 

Yuuri was utterly dumbfounded. Where the hell had this come from? They had been talking about Makkachin, and now they were talking about Viktor’s mother?

Was it Anya’s comment that triggered it? 

“At the time, my father and she were fighting all the time, over things I didn’t understand back then. I don’t think I understand better now if I’m being honest. I’ve tried so much to forget those times, that I sort of annihilated my own memories. I think it was related to my dad’s work though. And then one day I came home, and she wasn’t there. My dad was pacing in the house like a caged lion, screaming at the top of his lungs and kicking the furniture. They were shards of glass everywhere, and he’d gone so far as to destroy the wooden coffee table with a baseball bat.”

Yuuri couldn’t do anything other than staring, horrified by what Viktor was saying. Had his father always been so violent? He was terrified of asking if the furniture were the only thing his father had been hitting. 

After seeing the man in his own office earlier this week, he didn’t have any trouble imagining him going into a blind rage like that. It didn’t take anything from the horror that Viktor’s description was eliciting. He had never actually noticed Anatoly doing anything like that when Viktor and he used to be tied to the hip. 

In fact it was hard remembering much about him. He just had this general dislike, probably coming from the rare times he’d seen him. 

He remembered Viktor’s mother, Elena, quite well because she’d been his own mother’s best friend for a long time. They were the reason why Viktor and he had gotten so close this early.  
The two women had met when they were both pregnant and, they had instantaneously hit it off. Since then and until Elena left, they had been very close and naturally Viktor and Yuuri had shared their entire childhood together because of it. 

“I found Yura hiding in the closet of his room that day, terrified because Papa had lost it. He was 9 at the time and coming home to a hysterical fury wasn’t exactly a sweet welcome,” Viktor continued bitterly. 

Yuuri’s words died in his throat. He couldn’t muster the courage to ask if Yura had been-

“He wasn’t physically violent with us,” Viktor added a little quickly, meeting Yuuri’s eyes from the corner of his, as if he’d understood Yuuri’s struggle, but Yuuri winced at the comment nonetheless – like Viktor felt it was necessary to specify that there hadn’t been _physical_ violence. “He never hit us more than the occasional slap when acting as insolent brats, I’m sure you’ve had these too.”

Not often, but when it did happen he sure would remember, Yuuri recalled with a vague wince that tugged a strained smile on Viktor’s lips. 

“In any case, he was yelling she’d disappeared and that someone must have kidnapped her. We were dragged to the sheriff station, and ended up staying there for far longer than I ever wished we had. Yura was crying because Mama was gone, because Papa was screaming at everyone and snapping at him for crying, and I couldn’t do anything more than holding him when he let me.”

Yuuri breathed out in understanding. That must be why Viktor hated the sheriff station so badly. 

“The deputies weren’t of any help, they were saying that she hadn’t been kidnapped, that she simply left because of his shady business. I was barely listening. Between Yura’s cries, and my dad’s rage I was completely lost. Makkachin was the only thing that kept me sane. My mother was gone, and it suddenly felt so cold, like everything had suddenly lost all colors. I couldn’t figure out why she would have done that. My father was hammering she’d been kidnapped – although now I realize he was being delirious – and the officers were repeating she’d just left. It didn’t matter to me _why_ she wasn’t there, but I wanted her here, with me and Yura. But through it all, Makka was there; she was the only constant at that time and then later whenever I would crash. My father refused to leave the station for what felt like forever although I realized later it only been a day or so. Yura and I had to stay there too, and we ended up eating dusty sandwiches from the vending machine, unable to sleep properly.”

Yuuri had absolutely no words. His eyes were drilling Viktor’s skull, unable to prevent his mind from producing mental images associated with his tale. He was imagining 9-year-old Yura crying and pushing his brother away, while Viktor was nothing but at a loss as to how to handle the situation. 

He only managed to grip on reality when Viktor’s voice cracked as he tried to continue his story, a small tear splashing down his laps. “If I’d lost Makka too, I don’t know if I could have handled it.”

Without even thinking, Yuuri twisted his upper body and slammed his arms around Viktor’s neck, hugging him tight in the hope it’d prevent any more tears to fall. He didn’t want to see Viktor cry. He’d seen too much of that already, and the pain that distorted Viktor’s face as he was explaining this wasn’t something he wanted to have ingrained in his memory. After seeing how cheerful Viktor could be, or rather after being reminded of how cheerful he could be, Yuuri knew he’d have a harder time standing anything else anymore. 

Viktor gasped at the unexpected gesture, but didn’t reject the hug and if anything, leaned into it, just the time to allow himself to calm down. When Yuuri felt how Viktor’s body relaxed once more, the shaking dampening down, he released his embrace. Viktor let out a shaky breath, swallowing down before speaking again. 

“At the time I was so mad at her for leaving.”

Yuuri took in the words, not particularly surprised. It was an understandable reaction, but he felt saddened by the deep hurt he could hear in Viktor’s tone. 

“I felt like it was her fault, all of it. The reason why my dad had lost it, why Yura couldn't sleep without crying…”

Yuuri took in a deep breath, unsure of how exactly to broach on what he felt he needed to say. Elena had always been the image of a perfect mother. Well after his own of course, no one would replace his mom. He simply had a very hard time conceiving that she had sustained maligns intentions when she had left. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t assume that your mother is the villain in all this,” he said softly, his hand trailing on Viktor’s forearm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, but was surprised by how fast Viktor reacted. He snapped his head up, meeting Yuuri’s eyes with a hard gleam. 

“Isn’t she though?” 

Yuuri’s mouth opened slightly, weighting his next words. He didn’t want to upset Viktor but in his experience, it was rarely that straightforward. If her departure was linked to her husband’s job, that surely didn’t have anything to do with a disinterest in her children. 

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” he tentatively answered, but again Viktor was prompt in shooting back. 

“Yeah it is,” he said bitterly. “The hero is the one that stays and the villain is the one that splits.” He took in a deep breath, his eyes fluttering close for a moment, before continuing. “Or at least it was.”

There was an edge to the last words that tug Yuuri’s curiosity, but he didn’t act on it, allowing Viktor to go through with what he seemed resolved to say. 

“I more or less always knew it wasn’t a healthy perspective, but it was better than me pining away everyday, praying she’d come home,” he explained, dropping his eyes to his knees where his hands were wringing together. “It was easier to see things that way, but ultimately it buried me even deeper in an erroneous perspective.”

Erroneous perspective? What was he talking about now? Yuuri frowned, and shook his head a little in confusion. “What do you-”

Viktor suddenly looked back up, straight into Yuuri’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but flinch. 

“About what happened to us.” 

Yuuri’s heart stopped. Right there, it stopped and he felt his breath hitched. Was Viktor’s mother leaving what had broken them? Should he even ask? 

For such a long time he’d thought that understanding what had happened was the only thing left he needed for closure. But now that Viktor and he had managed to more or less cross a bridge he didn’t know was still standing over the course of the week, he wondered if he still needed such confessions. He remembered the last time Viktor had spoken to him with such seriousness coating his features, and he knew back then he wasn’t being told the entire story. 

The look Viktor was harboring now was quite different, and Yuuri was sure that if he asked, there wouldn’t be any way to undo it. Viktor would spill everything, regardless of if Yuuri liked it or not. And that was what was scaring Yuuri now. 

What if he didn’t like what he would hear, and it would simply destroy what they’d patched up over the week? True, he had sworn to Phichit he wasn’t as naive or gullible anymore when it came down to putting his trust in Viktor, but how veridic was that statement now? How fast had he dived right back into that hope of repairing what had shattered? And truth be told, had he been really misled? He’d had his doubts over how true his own understanding of what had happened almost since Viktor came to ask for help. 

Time and time again, he was met with bouts and pieces of evidence that was crumbling his version of the facts, and it was all the more true since Viktor had popped up at his place two nights ago to confess parts of his version. 

JJ’s words suddenly echoed in his mind again. _“Your fault.”_

Was it really his fault? Before then, he had been convinced that he didn’t care whether he liked the answer or not. He had thought he didn’t care anymore. An answer was better than a deadly silence that could be so loud it was deafening. Viktor’s indifference had shattered him back then, and it took years and Phichit-level cheerfulness and positivism to build him back up. 

Now there wasn’t any pretense of not caring anymore. He **did** care. A lot. He probably cared way more than he should, and that was why he was utterly terrified. 

He should have known that he never would have been able to give up what had been such an important part of his life if he was presented the opportunity to get it back. 

He let out small stuttered breath, still hesitating whether he should ask or not, but ultimately he knew he was only delaying the inevitable. He would never be satisfied with a half patched-up friendship, and what had happened back in 7th grade would always haunt them like a cloud over the sun. 

“Your mother leaving,” he started, dreading his next words, “was that the reason why you pushed me away?”

He automatically held out his breathing as soon as the words were out, watching out for Viktor’s reaction. His eyes fluttered close a little, just as his body tense in expectation of what he would have to explain now. He clenched his jaw, swallowing before meeting Yuuri’s anxious gaze. 

“Part of it was.”

Yuuri’s breath hitched. He felt like the Pandora box was being opened right before his eyes. He’d been dying to know what was going through Viktor’s mind for so long; dying to finally understand what had happened; dying to understand what had gone wrong; and now, Viktor was about to explain what he’d been omitting the last time they had shared such a serious conversation. There wasn’t any turning back now, he was getting the explanation. 

“My dad’s company was under investigation,” Viktor said, his jaw still clenched, but seemingly not in anger. “The investigators were accusing him of taking part in illegal activities, and that’s the reason why my parents were fighting. Like I said, I still don’t know the details of it all, but what I do know is that it quickly became a living hell because of their fights.”

Viktor’s eyes had glazed over, as though memories were being played before him. Yuuri was so dreading what was coming. 

Viktor swallowed before he opened his mouth again. “Yuuri, your father was the one leading the investigation.”

What. the. Hell. 

“After my mother left, my father became enraged, like I said. And even if he never hit us, he was never tender to begin with. After that he was throwing insults, screaming for no reason. When Yura managed to stop crying, it was to yell that it was our father’s own fault if Mama had left, and that he hated him for it. He was already stronger than I ever was.”

Yuuri felt his heart clench at the confession. But he couldn’t dwell on it long, because Viktor wasn’t planning on stopping there. 

“In return my father was smashing everything that fell under his grip, and he started saying things.”

Yuuri frowned, a violent nagging feeling twisting his stomach. Whatever Viktor’s father had been saying, he somehow knew it had a part to play in Viktor’s subsequent behavior. 

“He said… he said that...,” Viktor stammered, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. 

He breathed in sharply, locking his eyes on Yuuri, and Yuuri had to force himself not too look down at the intensity he was met with.

“He said that this whole mess was because of you, that the investigation was the only reason you were my friend.” 

Yuuri felt the blood being drained from his face, and his heart clenched in his chest. The words hit him like a tidal wave, smashing all his certitudes like the water on rocks, and Viktor’s expression wasn’t helping. Nor the fact that he couldn’t stop talking now. 

“He was saying that you knew my father was under investigation, and that your father had given you the task to get close to me; to become my friend in order to get information on him. It couldn’t make sense, I know! Our mothers are the reasons we knew each other, we’d been friends since we were kids. Hell, practically since we were born! But I - I… I was hurting,” he blurted out, tears now falling freely on his cheeks while Yuuri could feel his own vision blur.

“I was hurting, because the person I loved the most had left. She’d always been there, and she had just left… Like that, without a word she just left, and it broke me, leaving me hollow but for the pain of believing she had abandoned me and Yura. I was so lost, and the only thing I was met with was my father’s words. He was throwing them like venom, his voice was shaking with anger constantly. God, Yuuri, he always looked so angry, so viscerally enraged.” 

He had steadily broke down crying as the words were being allowed out, the sobs were now shaking Viktor’s frame, but despite this, his voice was still somewhat clear. Yuuri’s head was spinning now, the words swirling in his mind like a whirlwind, attacking him relentlessly. The implications were slowly crashing down on him, smothering his senses and smashing his reason. 

“He was repeating the same things over and over. I was completely lost, and he was attacking me with his spite and anger every second of every day. And the more he repeated it, the more it seemed real. I protested, I tried to argue but when I did he would break something else. The more he said it was my fault, the more I believed it. My fault for being such a stupid and foolish boy for letting someone like you fool me so easily, for giving your father the means to make up lies about him, and ultimately that if I hadn’t been so idiotic, my mother would still be with us.”

Viktor paused there, allowing himself to breathe and seemingly oblivious to Yuuri’s increasing difficulty to process words as his breathing was getting erratic. 

“Then I came back to school, and I saw you. And I broke. His words and his screams, everything was ringing in my head. He’d made it all about you, all of it was because of me being stupid, and you for being a manipulative bastard. I tried to avoid you, I didn’t want to see you. I was confused with what I thought I’d known my whole life, and what my father was now telling me. And that day you came to see me, after I managed to run away from you for longer than a week. There you were, looking at me so innocently, and I couldn’t help but believing his lies; the lies that were screaming at me that the person that mattered to me the most in my life had been driven away by who I thought was another one of the dearest person in my life. I snapped. Seeing you like that made my gut turn upside down, and I pushed you. My father never stopped feeding me his resentment every day, reminding me how I should be happy I messed everything up. I was trapped in his lies and my own guilty-conscience. Maybe if I could have done something differently, maybe she could have stayed, maybe my brother wouldn’t cry himself to sleep every night. And it all came down to hating you. My heart would clench whenever I was seeing you in the hallway, I felt betrayed by the person I was the closest to beyond my mother. It was like you had held my heart in your hand and crushed it, trampling it, destroying it. As we grew up, you started talking back, having an answer to everything, didn’t care about anything others would throw at you. And it only made me believe more the image my father had crafted, the one he’d fed me for weeks. It became a self-protection mechanism. I didn’t want to remember anything that had happened before my mother left, because apparently I had been a mindless idiot and it had all been a lie. It was easier to believe you had always been this awful creature manipulating me for his own benefit rather than to accept that I was responsible for prompting her to leave and that ultimately I was losing who I thought was the closest person in my life.”

Yuuri couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. 

He had heard the words, he’d processed them but nothing made sense anymore. His brain was swimming in his head, he felt dizzy, his breathing was uneven, and his blood had frozen in his veins, making everything painful. Each swallow was like acid being poured down his throat. He was aware of how his heart had plummeted at each new word. How it had felt like a stone falling in the water, drowning instantaneously, creating ripples around. 

He tried to calm himself down, looking up at Viktor, whose face was drowned in tears and distorted by pain. A pain he knew was mirroring his own.

He looked away, feeling how tight his chest was over the erratic rhythm of his breathing that he was desperately trying to appease. _His fault_. That’s what Viktor had believed, that’s what his father had made him believe with his violence, exploiting the despair of a child that ended up relying on lies as a coping mechanism for the disappearance of his mother. 

“Yuuri I’m so sorry,” Viktor breathed out, tugging his attention once more, and Yuuri lifted a distraught glance up at him, his body still shaking. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would block out everything and redirect his focus solely on controlling his breathing. It worked, somewhat. At least he wasn’t hyperventilating and that was an achievement. 

Viktor was looking at him with this desperation coating his features, and he got aware once more of the reality they found themselves in. He couldn’t speak, his mouth was dry and his heart pounded painfully in his chest. His emotions were all over the place, Confusion, guilt, horror, anger, and he had no idea which one was at the forefront. 

How could Viktor ever think he could do something like that? 

Viktor had been his whole life. 

Phichit probably hadn’t exaggerated when he’d said they had been closer than Phichit and he were now. Considering how hard he’d taken the rejection, and how painful the revelation as to why it was, he couldn’t argue against Phichit’s opinion. 

He suddenly felt so angry. So angry at Viktor for believing such heinous words. Hadn’t Viktor known him at all? Hadn’t their friendship meant anything? 

Objectively, he could understand what had led Viktor to feel so distraught and rely on who should have been the one person to comfort him and his brother after their mother left. Their father instead had twisted it carelessly, making them all suffer. 

But the pain that Viktor’s story had reignited was drowning everything. The only thing he was able to focus on was that Viktor had decided their friendship wasn’t worth holding onto; that he’d resorted to hate him because of the odious lies of a man Yuuri now viscerally hated. 

Tears had sprung free from his eyes at this point, and his throat was burning from the words that were stuck there. Yuuri shot up on his feet, needing to put some distance between them, and he wrapped his arms around his stomach as a sob wracked his body. 

“Yuuri, I-”

“How could you believe him?!” Yuuri yelled, swirling around so fast that he didn’t miss how Viktor violently flinched under his outburst. 

Yuuri was suddenly very glad they’d been seating in a deserted area. This sure would have fed the school in gossip for at least the next ten years. 

Viktor gulped, tears still rolling off his cheeks and visibly struggling to explain himself. It only fueled Yuuri’s rage further. Deep down he knew he wasn’t being fair. Who knew how he would have reacted in Viktor’s place. But the pain was too big, too heavy to be bared without the fuel that anger provided him with. He couldn’t help but releasing all the feelings he had bottled up for so long. 

“Viktor, how could you? When did you decide I didn’t matter anymore? When did you decide that it was acceptable to believe our friendship was a forgery for the sake of an investigation I had no idea about? I was freaking 11! My father never told me anything about his work before I was way older, and you stopped talking to me so abruptly I was terrified something had happened to you.”

Yuuri wasn’t sure he was making sense. All the words were rushing to escape, all the rage was powering through his best judgment. He couldn’t put all the blame on Viktor. In fact, most of it didn’t belong to him. The real culprit here was Viktor’s father. JJ had been saying it was “his fault” and Yuuri could understand how Viktor had been led to think so, but he was enraged that Viktor had let his father destroy it all. Furious that all these years had been wasted over the lies of a pathetic ass, that Viktor had been suffering in silence, and that himself had been rejected like he meant nothing. 

“And then you came back to school, and you avoided me! How could have I ever understood?” he continued, and then chuckled bitterly between the sobs, letting his eyes wander skywards, “God, Viktor do you even realized what that did to me?” 

Viktor blanched even more, if that was possible.

“It _destroyed me_. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I wouldn’t talk and would cry myself to sleep for months. The only reason why I didn’t end up completely messed up was because Phichit was there.” 

By then Viktor was nothing but a ghost, and if Yuuri hadn’t been so caught up in his own head, he would have been scared Viktor might pass out considering how white he looked. His breath had hitched, and he was staring at Yuuri, horrified. 

“I couldn’t understand why you suddenly hated me. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong… You wouldn’t speak to me, you wouldn’t even look at me!” 

“I’m so- so sor-ry,” Viktor cried out, face drenched in tears and unable to meet Yuuri’s eyes anymore. 

Yuuri stayed there, unable to add a word. The burning anger had evaporated, leaving the deep hurt in its stead, making him feel sick. He couldn’t figure out whether he wanted to slap Viktor or engulf him in the tightest hug he’d ever given and never let go. 

He couldn't stay there. He needed to get out of there, go somewhere where he could think, or at least breathe. He turned on his heels, not looking back, although he heard Viktor making a surprised sound. 

“Yuuri!” 

He wanted to block his ears. The despair in the voice was too much, he needed distance, he needed some peace and quiet to think. 

“Yuuri! Come back, please!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Viktor's side is finally revealed...


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all everyone for your lovely comments! <3 I love reading you all and that you're enjoying this story brings me more happiness than I can express! 
> 
> A lot of revelations in that chapter...again! 
> 
> p.s: I don't know if some people are in the habit of doing that, but just in case, don't read the endnotes before reading the chapter! It contains a few spoilers :)

“Yuu open up,” he heard Phichit say behind the locked door. 

He sniffled and rubbed his hand over his eyes, head tilted against the wall against which he had sat. After he’d ran away from Viktor’s pleas, he’d found himself in the only place he could think of to hide. The boys bathroom. 

And naturally, Phichit had known where to find him when Yuuri couldn’t send out more details than ‘help’. 

He let out a shaky breath as he got to his feet, and reached the lock to allow his friend in. The door was barely opened that Phichit had slipped in, closed it and engulfed Yuuri in a bear hug that had him sobbing again. 

“It’s fine, breathe, it’s gonna be fine,” Phichit shushed him softly, drawing circles in his back. Yuuri allowed himself to sink in Phichit’s embrace for a minute, taking his time for the sobs to die down. 

He loosened his grip and Phichit released him from the hug. He could feel Phichit’s eyes riveted on his probably very ugly looking face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. This was Phichit and he’d seen him in worse states than that.

“What happened?” 

Yuuri swallowed heavily the uncomfortable slump that made itself known once more at the words.

_What about, everything I know about Viktor Nikiforov is more or less a lie and we lost six years over the lies of a jerk that shouldn’t even be a parent?_

What should he even start with?

“Is it because of Viktor?” 

Bless Phichit and his providential omniscient intuition. Yuuri nodded lamely, sniffling again courtesy of his runny nose. Gosh he hated crying. Phichit took the matters in his hands because in two seconds he was gone and back with a paper towel.

Yuuri forced himself to smile in thanks. “Do you want to talk about it?”

No… Yes… Maybe? Did he want to? Could he? He had no idea. Anyone else might have thought that asking Phichit for help meant he needed to talk about it; but Yuuri was about sure that Phichit came here with the sole expectation that Yuuri needed his presence, not necessarily to be listening to anything but his attempts to calm himself down.

“I don’t know,” he whispered and god his voice was so hoarse, he winced at how atrocious it sounded. 

“Ok then,” Phichit simply said, leading him by the nudge of his elbow to lean against the counters. “What do you need?”

Yuuri didn’t really have to think about that at least. “For now, just stay with me please,” he pleaded.

He simply needed his best friend with him, as he calmed down, and maybe later when he’d managed to sort out his thoughts a little, he would explain.

He saw Phichit nodding when he lifted his eyes up to his face, and was met with a gentle smile that gave him all the reassurance he needed at the moment. 

It would be fine. It wasn’t now, but hopefully it would be.

***

Yuuri didn’t want to see Viktor after they had left the bathroom, and although they didn’t share any class together that afternoon, he didn’t want to take the risk of running into him in a hallway. Or worse, being chased down. 

Considering how devastated Viktor had looked, Yuuri doubted he would have the energy to try and find him across the school. But it wasn’t like it was a gigantic school to begin with, and him and Viktor really did process things differently. He had no way of knowing how Viktor would process their conversation, and considering how he’d try and follow him as far as the office after Yuuri had – admittedly brilliantly – escaped his sight for an entire day, he had to consider the possibility that staying in the school was the best way to end up running into him.

And he really couldn’t afford it. He needed time to think and breathe and process things by himself. He was always better on his own when it came to think things through. 

Phichit told him he would call in sick for him when he’d led him to his car, and that was reassurance enough none of his teachers would think he’d disappeared. Not that it would be too surprising coming from him but still. Phichit got reluctant to let him take the wheel by himself, but seeing that Yuuri had mostly calmed down, he relaxed minutely. 

He drove straight to the office, remembering his father’s request the night before. He had said “after school”, and this was technically, after school. The fact that he hadn’t actually finish the school day didn’t change anything. 

The drive felt like a blur. Viktor’s words ringing in his ears, flashes of his tear strained face imposing themselves to him each time he would close his eyes for even a second. As he cut the engine, he sighed and leaned back in the car seat, throwing a glance toward the entrance and that was only when that he realized how dangerous the drive had been. He had done everything in robot mode, no more consciousness in his actions than if he’d been half asleep. He had gone through the motions, and thank goodness, hadn’t gone through any accident, but he had to acknowledge that he shouldn’t have fought Phichit’s attempts to stop him from driving. 

Delaying the moment he would have to face what Viktor had confessed was definitely idiotic: the longer it stayed unaddressed, the harder it will be to come to terms with it. A lone, treacherous tear rolled down his cheek. 

He didn’t _want_ to deal with it. It was like a wound had been reopened mercilessly and the only way to cure it was to dig deeper in the flesh. The lump in his throat was throbbing painfully as he kept the sobs in, but he didn’t care. He had absolutely no wish to end up having to explain what the hell this was about to his father. He swallowed the sob that wanted to break through, and quickly passed his hand over his cheek as he took the keys out before getting ready to get out of the car. 

The view of his father leading out a woman out of the office stopped him dead in his movements. It felt like the air was punched out of his lungs, Anya’s accusations finding grounds for barely a second, before the full insanity of the situation hit him like a truck. This wasn’t just any woman. 

Oh bloody hell no.

This woman, he hadn’t seen in five years. This woman whose son he’d been with less than an hour ago. Her long and straight silver hair was tightened up in a ponytail that didn’t prevent the loose strands from brushing her back as she moved toward an inconspicuous car. 

Elena Nikiforova.

And his father was there, right behind her, with a face that Yuuri had trouble deciphering. If it was because of the shock of the scene unfolding in front of his eyes, or his own turmoil he didn’t know, and he didn’t exactly care. What he could notice and process, was the slight scowl harboring his father’s features. The one Yuuri usually received whenever he’d been doing something questionable but backed up by solid reasons. 

Which made all this even more confusing. Why the hell was his father with Viktor’s mother, who by the way had disappeared five years ago, leaving everyone behind? And perhaps more importantly, why the fuck didn’t Yuuri know about it? 

Yuuri didn’t move, one hand on the now slightly opened door, and the other still on the wheel, his arm looped in the bag’s strap. He stayed quiet despite the bubbling anger threatening to resurface. He’d just had to go through Viktor pouring his heart out about losing his mother and now he was seeing his father speaking with said mother as if it was a perfectly normal occurrence. He watched as his father didn’t linger outside and went straight back to the office, just as Elena’s car left the parking slot. 

Realization crashed over him like a truck. The person his father had been talking to over the phone. The one that would have to explain years of absence. That was Elena. 

His heart seized in his chest.

He had wanted an answer. Well he’d gotten it.

His steps were hurried and hammering the wooden floor as he crossed the office, his thoughts reeling. He half jumped in surprise when the man emerged out of the adjacent office.

“Yuuri you’re here, good. I need to talk to you-,” he abruptly stopped upon lifting his gaze up to Yuuri’s face. “What happened, are you alright?”

In a second he was standing next to Yuuri, almost as if trying to see if he had gotten hurt somewhere. Yuuri would have laughed bitterly if he hadn’t been so emotionally drained. He had indeed been hurt; just not physically. 

He was a mess. A literal mess, feeling so many things at the same time but the anger was at the forefront and that was the only thing he needed in order to get through this at the moment. 

“Yuu, what happened kiddo– ?” 

“Dad what the hell was that?” he nearly shouted, aware of the slight hysteric edge his voice took, arm shooting towards the entrance. 

His father looked in that direction frowning in confusion before he visibly blanched, eyes wide as he stared at Yuuri almost in disbelief. Yuuri couldn’t do anything but stare back. His father sighed deeply as his entire frame deflated. 

“I really didn’t want you to find out this way,” he said weakly. 

Yuuri let out a breathy scoff. “Yeah I’m sure. You probably wished I’d never find out at all, is more like it, isn’t it?”

He could already feel the tears fighting their way back as he was trying to make sense of whatever it was he needed to say. It seemed to confuse his father, because he frowned, head jerking back slightly. 

“Yuuri no, that’s not it, but–” 

“I’m sick of the secrets, dad! Please, just please don’t lie again, just tell me what the hell is going on! Why is Viktor’s mother here? And why the hell did she leave in the first place? Does she even know what mess she created? Fuck this, you adults can be so selfish, I don’t– ”

He was cut off when his father engulfed him in a bear hug he hadn’t seen coming, shushing him quietly and petting the back of his head. 

Oh. When did he start crying again? The lump in his throat was there again, throbbing painfully now that he was effectively cut off in his senseless rambling.   
He had no idea how long they stayed like that, his father’s protective arms around his back as himself would clench in the fabric of his dad shirt and allowed the tears to run freely again. 

“Shush Yuu, it’s ok.” _But it wasn’t_. “Whatever it is, It’ll be ok.” _Will it though?_ “The feeling will fade away.” It all felt so overwhelming, his emotions smothering his senses and rational mind right now.

After a while, his eyes ran dry, and what was left was an overwhelming need to close his eyes and sleep it off. 

“It’s not just about seeing Elena is it?”

Yuuri had to swallow back the dry laugh that almost left his lips. No, it wasn’t only about seeing her, but at the same time it was far more connected to her than Yuuri could have ever imagined before Viktor decided to trigger a freaking emotional Ragnarok. He breathed out, eyes cast down now that his father had let him go, although his steady hands were still clasped on his arm and shoulder. 

He didn’t want to have to explain it all, and he didn’t trust his own voice so he simply shrugged. 

“Yuu, talk to me…”

That made him look up, vaguely aware that he must have been glaring a little. “Like you talk to me?” 

His father sighed and looked conflicted. A few seconds passed and he nodded in direction of his office, towards which Yuuri followed him. 

Yuuri sat ungracefully in one of the chair facing his father’s desk and followed his father’s movements, as he circled the desk and sat in turn. He was sitting straight, and brought both his hands over the desk clasping them together, gesture that immediately put Yuuri’s attention on alert. Neither of them uttered a word for several minutes, the air solely filled by their even breathing and occasional sighs on the part of his dad. 

“Did you ask me to come here today to tell me about her?” Yuuri heard himself say after a while. 

“Yes and no.” 

Yuuri arched an eyebrow at the answer. Alright, that didn’t make much sense. 

“What does that mean?” he asked, perhaps a little harsher than he intended. His father’s jaw clenched subtly, but Yuuri didn’t miss it, and he sat back in his chair.   
“Yuuri, I’m gonna need you to please listen without getting worked up. I don’t know what happened before you came in here, but you can’t let it cloud your attention and reaction.”

Yuuri lowered his eyes and let out a vaguely shaky breath. His dad was right. He’d been reeling on his face-to-face with Viktor, and seeing Elena only made it worse. Still it didn’t change the fact that if his father had expressively asked him to come by, this must be some serious talk they were in for. 

So upon looking back up, he nodded wordlessly. 

“Ok then. After what happened yesterday I realized that trying to keep you out of the loop only put you into more danger,” he started, voice strained. “I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you, even more so if because of me.”

Yuuri sighed. “Dad, it wasn’t-”

“It was Yuuri; it was my fault on many levels, and I want to remedy to that. There are many things out of my control, but what I can control, I’ll use if it helps protecting you.”

“What you can control? I don’t get it,” Yuuri blurted out, confused.

“I know you’re more than smart enough to realize the stakes of this investigation if I tell you more about it, and I should probably have understood that earlier. I asked you to come so that I could explain everything I haven’t told you about the case. Especially since there have been significant developments since I first told you about it.”

“It has to do with Elena being back in town?” he asked and was graced with a sharp nod.

“I’m reluctant to share everything with you because I don’t know how you’ll react, but there’s a reason why I didn’t want you to spend time with Viktor Nikiforov. I should have known better than to expect you to listen without a good reason to.” 

So much for the distraction. Yuuri felt his chest constrict once more at the name, and swallowed heavily, although he tried his best not to let his distress of earlier take back its hold onto him. He’d just have to keep it all in a little longer. He’d broken down once in front of his dad now, no way he was doing it again.   
He nodded slowly, waiting for his father to continue.

“It actually starts way before the Sulliman case. You were probably around 11 or 12 at the time.” 

Oh god. Yuuri instantaneously felt nauseous.

“I was still working in collaboration with the Sheriff department at the time, and I had been commissioned to assemble a team and look into some shady business going on in Nikiforov Incorporated.” 

Yuuri had all the trouble in the world not letting his growing uneasiness and distress radiating from him, resisting the urge to clench his jaw.

“A local banker had noticed some inconsistencies in the company's accounts. I’ll spare you the details but it initially pointed out to real estate fraud; regardless, we had to look into it. It was to be handled with particular discretion. The last thing anyone wanted was for this to be leaked to the press. Regardless of us being right or wrong, it would have caused incommensurable damages. On that aspect it went pretty well, nothing got released, up until the scandal that everyone heard about,” he said, nudging his head in Yuuri’s direction, who swallowed. “Elena Nikiforova left her husband never to come back, leaving her two sons behind and a rather vocal husband that went out of his way to make sure this investigation would become a living hell. My team and I did absolutely everything we could, not leaving any stone unturned; but nothing made sense. Yes, they were inconsistencies, and accounts we couldn’t trace back with actual evidence. That didn’t help our case when Elena left; she created a wave none of us could control, and obviously the local media heard of it and from there the investigation was finally shut down when nothing concrete could be found.”

Yuuri recognized the story for what it was: the triggering event that destroyed his and Viktor’s friendship to ashes. Why was his father telling him this? 

“I suppose you notice the similarity between another case of ours?” his father finally added, enigmatically. 

He swallowed, pushing away the spiral leading to Viktor. It helped that the comment perked up his attention, his thoughts already reeling over the new information.  
“The Sulliman case,” he breathed out, lifting his eyes as he realized the implications. Nothing could be found on this case either. For years it’d been a deadweight in their files, dragging its mysteries wherever they went.

His father nodded, letting the realization sink in, intending to tell Yuuri there was a point. That he wasn’t bringing up old history for the hell of it.

“The original investigation for the Sulliman case started perhaps two years ago. Like I said, it’d been tipped off to the sheriff department anonymously, with rather evasive directions. You already know the grand lines of the rest. After nothing could be found, it was essentially closed and archived. Leroy was the one to reopen it rather unofficially, by going through me, a year ago. That’s only then that evidence started to be gathered, but nothing conclusive could be assemble. Up until a few weeks ago.” 

Yuuri straightened in his seat immediately.

“A few weeks ago? As in long before you told me it was still a mess and that you couldn’t find anything really consistent,” he exclaimed thoughts reeling. “Now that I think about it, how did you even make so much progress in a week after years investigating?”

His father didn’t answer right away, looking on the desk as he tried to find the best way to explain.

Yuuri let out a breath as he finally understood something. “You didn’t tell me anything substantial back on Monday,” Yuuri finally said, feeling resigned.

“I did,” his father immediately said, looking straight into his eyes. “Yuuri, trust me I did. I simply did not share the information we’d just acquired because I simply _couldn’t_.”

Yuuri frowned a little, humming a vague understanding. 

“Alright. Hum, well what happened in the last weeks that I don’t know? And did you gather any information from the bugged room before it got found out?”

“You already know that last week, we got informed about our only suspect staying in town, which resulted into our little operation,” his father started. “For a long time it was impossible to link that name, Bogdan, to anyone because it was simply that: a name. We had no actual way to know whether it referred to a first or last name and believe it or not, it isn't’ that uncommon of a name. Before you mentioned it, none of us realized the link with Anya’s middle name.”

Yuuri wanted to cringe at the mention of Anya, reminding him of her earlier behavior. 

“Are you absolutely certain it’s that man though?”

“Without our context, we wouldn’t have been able to be sure. Andrei Dvornikov is a very private businessman compared to others, and he did a thorough job in erasing any online public traces of a name change. After you brought me with that evidence, the reason why I went to see Leroy was that we needed to do further research in the matter. We managed to actually find his complete and real name: Bogdan Vadimovich Dvornikov.”

Yuuri nodded thoughtfully. They probably had resources he couldn’t access yet, which made sense. At least they managed to assess with relative certainty that the CEO of Dvornikov Industries and their suspect was in fact the same man.

“But then at the hotel, it wasn’t him…”

“No it wasn’t. But through the audio we gathered from the room, I established it probably is one of his advisors. Unofficial advisor, obviously. Like I said, that man is rather cautious.”

“But then I don’t get it; I mean if he is that cautious, how in the world did you know he would stay at that hotel? Especially since that man isn’t even an official partner of Bogdan’s company.”

“We got tipped off.”

Yuuri flinched in surprise. “You got- what? Again? How is that even possible? Does it mean there’s someone who knows everything about this case? Do you really not know who-“

“Yuu calm down, let me finish!” his father interrupted, lifted his hands to calm Yuuri’s sudden outburst. “I’ll get to that. Trust me, I was just as confused as you are, but I want to explain you the whole picture, so listen. Do you remember what I said I thought this case was?”

Yuuri let out a breath, his gaze wandering around as he recalled their first conversation. “Yes, hum, about the network of mafia, right?”

His father nodded. “In fact, it seems it is a lot smaller than that. Guess who is the first partner of Dvornikov Industries?”

Yuuri’s head made a slight movement backwards as surprise washed over him. 

“Wait what? Why is that-” he abruptly stopped, eyes widening as he looked back up at his father. “Nikiforov Incorporated,” he breathed out. “Oh my god, the men that came…from Alistair Industries, they worked for him… and they, they came after the bugs were found…”

His father pursed his lips in acquaintance. “Bingo. Their official partnership was among the most successful of the country. Turns out, it ran deeper than we thought, and leaned towards unofficial dealings as well. We believe that they cooperate both in official contracts and their underground traffic.” Yuuri narrowed his eyes at that, but remained silent. “As you are probably aware, their official dealings suffered a little downfall a few years ago,” his father explained, stopping to take a breath and measuring his next words.

“So let me get this straight: Bogan Dvornikov and Anatoly Nikiforov worked together; and then they drifted apart?” 

His father nodded. Something wasn’t adding up there.

“Why?”

“Can’t you see one element that could have led tensions between the two?”

What was he...?

“The Nikiforov Incorporate investigation!” he exclaimed almost disbelieving how long it took him to make the connection. His father couldn’t have told him that part of the story just for the hell of it. “So it’s all connected? The gang war or whatever, it’s not a gang war at all, is it? It’s a stupid rivalry between Nikiforov and Dvornikov.”

“That’s what everything seems to be pointing at, yes.”

“But then wait, how did you make the connection, what is linking them besides the similarities in the two investigations?”

“The Nikiforov Investigation brought a lot of attention to the companies’ financials and dealings, thus it would impact Dvornikov too. With what we know now, it was what created the chaos within their usual partnerships as they all scrambled to make sure none of their unofficial affairs ended up under police scrutiny. That’s where all the nonsensical trails that ended up being the Sulliman case after the anonymous tip came from. Eventually, Dvornikov and Nikiforov officially broke ties as I am sure you remember. And then a few weeks ago, we received that tip,” his father said meaningfully. “About the arrival of that Bogdan, and talks about a potential corporate rapprochement between the two CEOs.” 

This was a lot of information all of a sudden. As if all the pieces of a gigantic puzzle tried to put themselves together right at the same time. 

“It allowed us to plant those bugs in their room, and even if it was short lived, I did manage to glean information. If I had known the price to pay for you thought, I would never-“

“Stop it, dad,” Yuuri said, his voice as stern as he could make it. “This isn’t your fault, and even if it wasn’t exactly a tea party, if you got information out of it that’s all it matters.”

He could see it in his eyes that his father did not agree and was this close to argue back, but he let out a reluctant sigh and rolled his eyes at Yuuri’s adamant response.

Yuuri used the opportunity the silence provided him with to insert another question. 

“Ok so when did you realize that these investigations were connected then? Back when the CEOs parted ways, or…?” 

“No, that only puzzled us more at the time. The Sulliman case as we called it, was only brought about later. When we picked the case back up with Leroy, we were entirely focused on the local dealings and infractions, which made us consider that crazy idea about a conglomerate of mafia gang. What we know now, is that both Nikiforov and Dvornikov probably continued their business independently, and it often crossed paths and backfired, which only confused us more in our ‘Sulliman Case’. It led us to many groups, including the Triad, and the local Irish gang for instance. By investigating the latter, we found traces of agreement between them and what used to be the Niforov-Dvornikov Corp. They traced back years ago, and during the Nikiforov Investigations, they were talks within the Corp to end ties with the Irish gang. It seems they were getting a little wary of the attention their quarrel brought onto them and the means of operations of the gang was deemed too conspicuous.”

“Can’t say I disagree with that,” Yuuri mused, his tone a little cynical.

His father nodded his agreement. “Regardless, it allowed us to pick up some of the members and we got to talk to them, on the promise of individual immunity for past crimes.”

“Can you do that?”

“We managed to find relatively low key members of the gang without much criminal record beyond petty thief. The Irish gang works like a family and they didn’t need to be high up in the ranks to be informed of the grand lines of their affairs. That’s all we needed. It gave us the key to figure out the main unofficial dealings of our two elusive CEOs.”

His father paused, as he breathed out and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, before continuing.

“Like I told you, the suspicious account in Nikiforov Incorporated we discovered six years ago, we thought were simply money laundering related to real estate fraud; nothing very surprising if you ask me. What the discovery that our case was linked to the original Nikiforov Investigation and our interactions with the Irish gang brought about was the evidence of how extensively deeper those illegal dealings went.”

“Like how deep?” Yuuri asked suddenly feeling uneasy upon seeing the reluctance on his father’s face.

“Deeper as in human trafficking in drug manufacturers.”

Yuuri blanched. He stared at his father, waiting for the joke to crack but nothing came. He gasped a breath, horrified, a cold sweat going down is spine.   
Images of Anatoly Nikiforov threatening him were flashing behind his eyes. God, this was so much worse than anything he could have imagined and he really couldn’t process the information properly. So he switched to something easier to think about. Somewhat.

“Is that why- hum is that the reason why you warned me about spending time with Viktor?” he nothing but whispered lamely ignoring how his heart squeezed at the name.

His father sighed, darting his eyes skywards for a second.

“When you told me you were working with him, I already knew about Nikiforov’s link to the mafia, the Sulliman case, the drug and human trafficking. I didn’t want you to get too close. What happened when you boys were 11 didn’t really convince me to revise my judgment. Don’t think I didn’t notice when your friendship suddenly ended.”

Yuuri’s heart clenched a little in his chest at the mention of the event and how sorry his dad looked mentioning it. The door back in the hallway slammed shut, tugging him out of his pathetic musing.

“I probably should close that window,” his father said after having noticed the door slamming, turning talk into action as he rose up from his seat, “there’s too many air streams in this building.”

Yuuri shook his head, trying to bring a little more clarity into his thoughts. “Ok then hum, what- how do you even _know_ about that...business? Is it the members of the Irish gang that told you about it?”

“Yes and no. Remember when I was saying people were disappearing? Well that’s the information the Irish gang gave us. They’re dealing with drugs mostly, and they would have been fools not to notice that people getting too close to the Nikiforov-Dvornikov Corp, or that messed up, ended up disappearing. Bodies were rarely found by the Sherriff forces because it was cleaned up. None of the lower end groups the Corp was dealing with would risk the Sherriff get close to their own illegal deals, even if it was their own group being killed or abducted.”

Yuuri nodded, a distinctive wave of nausea sweeping over and a seemingly permanent frown plastered on his forehead. 

“Besides these confessions, we had nothing before bugging that room though.” Yuuri looked back up at that, only to see his father close his eyes, pained. “They made a mention of it before discovering the bugs. I’m guessing that’s why they were looking for me. I should have told you.”

Yuuri didn’t protest this time. He probably should have yes, but he didn’t have it in himself to say so. 

“Ok so, where does that leave us now?” he asked feeling overwhelmed and his sentiment of helplessness only intensifying. “And what about the anonymous tip, can you tell me who it is now?”

His father nodded thoughtfully, while Yuuri kept his eyes riveted on him in anticipation. 

“We’re getting closer. We have a patchwork of information through which we need to work out a little, you know, fill in the blanks; but we are nowhere near as desperate as we were even last week.”

“Is it because of that person that keeps giving you information? I’m confused though I mean, if whoever that is knows so much, why don’t they simply collaborate or I don’t know give you more significant information? So far each time they’ve contacted you, it managed to spur a new opening, or a new lead for the case.”  
His father tilted his head down subtly with a slight smile. “It’s not that easy though.”

Yuuri deflated a little. 

“Maybe it should be…” he muttered under his breath. There probably was a very good reason behind that person’s decision into providing help through anonymous tips. One thing was sure, they wanted that case solved just as badly as his father and Leroy.

“You know, one of the reason Leroy decided to reopen the case, and the reason why I was so ready to help despite how challenging it was promising to be, was because we thought this could make a difference,” his father explained softly, just as Yuuri lifted his eyes to meet his father’s. “I am not teaching you anything if I tell you there’s quite a culture of impunity in this city. There is a cleavage between those who have the means to escape justice, and those who are systematically being held accountable, often far more harshly than their offense would prescribe. We thought that this investigation might be a step in the right direction in order to end it. After we discovered how horrid the dealings of Dvornikov and Nikiforov actually were it all made us even more determined to put an end to it. The harm it brings about is indescribable; there are kids ending up in inescapable situation, whether it be because of drug addiction, debt bondage, trafficking or god knows what. The most vulnerable are the one most often denied help. When the county decided to close the case it didn’t just allow two of the most dangerous men in this county to get by without being held accountable, but realistically it translated into all their victims being forgotten and left aside.”

Yuuri swallowed the lump in his throat. Yes he knew all that. He simply hadn’t realized all the implications this case held before his father put it in such words. On hindsight he could see why his father hadn’t wanted him to get to close to that kind of business. God knows what could happen if he had ended up seeing or hearing something he shouldn’t have. Even the trick he’d pulled at the hotel could have been extremely risky if the men had picked up on his deception.

His father breathed out deeply, and he suddenly looked ten years older. This case wasn’t doing him any favor. He leaned back in his chair, passing a hand through his hair. After a few minutes of silent, he cleared his throat and simply said, “And to answer your second question, Elena Nikiforova.”

Yuuri frowned and looked back up, momentarily surprised at the sudden change in topic. “What about her?”

His father smiled indulgently. “Yuu, she’s the one who made the anonymous tip.”

And again, Yuuri blanked. Well, he flinched violently first, then he blanked, then he blinked like a madman, taking in a sharp breath.

“What- she- how, why?” he blurted out, his voice itching on despair at how all this was all becoming the most confusing shit show he’d ever encountered and he gave a semi-glare when his father breathed out a weak chuckle.

“This isn’t funny! How are you so calm about this? Is that why she’s back after fucking six years of absence? Did you only just learn it was her?” 

“She finally contacted us directly this week. She barely just got back in town.”

Yuuri’s lips parted just as his eyebrows shot up. How was that possible? 

“I don’t get it. She contacts _you_ ; she helps with the investigation, several times, but she doesn’t let either of her sons know she’s here?” his voice very close to breaking over how he was getting hysterical.

Viktor’s words were hammering in his heads. _“The villain is the one that splits.”_ She had left. She had left her sons with an actual monster and she had fucked it all up. No matter how much he’d tried to tell Viktor that it probably wasn’t that easy, he couldn’t bring himself to believe his own words anymore… Not after hearing the pain in Viktor’s voice, or feeling his own heart ache at his confession, for it had slashed opened wounds he’d fooled himself into believing had healed. 

“Yuu…”

It didn’t make sense, why would she do that? The image of her he remembered wasn’t the cold and heartless person this story made her appear to be. She was…warm, smiling, and nice. But then again, if she had been able to tip off the sheriff department, and then his father about the case, it meant she knew a lot about it. It meant she had the means to bring evidence that would be decisive, didn’t it? Why was she only working from the sides, ignoring her sons and letting others floundering in nonsense? 

“Yuuri!”

He snapped his head back up, realizing he spaced out. 

“Sorry. I just… I don’t understand. Dad I really don’t get it,” he added with more conviction, but couldn’t quite hide the hint of distress in his voice. “Is she even aware about all the hurt that this has caused her sons?”

His father quirked an eyebrow, observing Yuuri with an otherwise neutral expression that made him feel a little self-conscious. 

“And how would you know about that? I thought you and Viktor weren’t on friendly terms anymore,” he said softly. 

Yuuri’s heart clenched in his chest, their earlier conversation making a forced comeback to the forefront of his mind. He shut his eyes for a second, hoping it would prevent any tears from spilling, and he exhaled sharply.

“I hum… I guess we’re... not exactly,” he trailed off, unconvinced by his own weak voice. 

“You know Yuu, I don’t think I’m the best person to explain it all to you. I would have preferred if she could have talked to you. I’ve told you because I don’t want to keep secrets from you if it’ll just put you into more danger. But it’s important that you don’t mention around that she’s back.” 

Yuuri’s face scrunched up in astonishment. “Wha- why?” he breathed out. “Dad, Viktor and Yuri have the right to know! They’ve been missing their mother for six years, she didn’t give any sort of explanation as to why she was leaving, she just took off!" 

His father’s brows knitted together in confusion for a moment. “How would you know that?”

Yuuri tightened his jaw. He’ll need to give at least some kind of explanation. “Viktor mentioned it,” he admitted in a whisper. 

His father hummed thoughtfully before stating, “I don’t know how you were provided with a different version, but she did leave an explanation.”

Yuuri blinked. “She did? But then how-”

“She never left without explanation. She wrote a letter to each of her sons explaining why she was leaving.”

That did not make sense. Had Viktor lied? No, he couldn't have. His words hadn’t been that of a liar. And for better or worse, Yuuri had a very hard time doubting Viktor’s words anymore. Not after he’d willingly made a step forward in Yuuri’s direction twice to try and understand better their whole situation. It was more than Yuuri had ever done for him.

He shook his head, slumping back in his seat in defeat. His father observed him for a few more minutes, none of them saying anything. 

“I think you can guess why she would leave?”

Yuuri sighed. No he didn’t. He didn’t know anything anymore, it all became too complicated for him to follow, he was tired, he was emotionally drained, and he just wanted this whole thing to resolve itself. 

“The investigation on her husband’s company?” he said anyway, and his father nodded sharply. 

“Exactly. She knew her husband had some shady connections, but I don’t think she suspected just how deep it went. When the investigation opened, she got a glimpse of it.”

Viktor had said his parents had been violently fighting around that time. It was surely because of that. 

“The reason she left was because she wanted to escape her husband’s grip. She needed to get away in order to be able to investigate thoroughly, and not take the risk of being discovered. You’ve seen the man yourself and one thing you probably inferred from what I’ve told you so far, is that Anatoly Nikiforov is very well capable of taking measures against anyone, even against his own wife, to prevent his business to be discovered and closed down. So far he benefited from the impunity the city de facto gives men like him because it doesn't take appropriate measures.”

“What about her sons?” Yuuri breathed out, remembering how devastated Viktor had looked upon telling him this part of his story. 

“They are her treasures Yuuri, I don’t think I need to tell you that.”

“But then why-”

“Let me finish kiddo. This isn’t a regular situation. Anatoly is a mafia, and a rather high ranked at that. She didn’t have any hope of winning if she opposed him directly. She wants her sons back. But the only way she can get them, is if Anatoly is being brought down for good.” 

Yuuri’s lips parted. “It still doesn’t make sense to me why she thought her sons would be safe with him if she was aware of his shady dealings and how dangerous crossing him could be,” he muttered forcefully, before exhaling slowly to calm down. He looked up again and continued: “That’s why she tipped you off like she did? But then why not help more?” he continued when his father nodded. 

“She had to be discrete. She has her own connections and she used them wisely; she managed to exploit the drift between her husband and Dvornikov to her own advantage, and to gather as many piece of evidence as she could. It had to look like the investigation was progressing solely because of us. She was scared that if she acted too overtly, something would happen to Viktor or Yuri, and she really couldn’t take that risk. He had never been violent with them, and she was counting on that to keep them somewhat safe while she gathered what she needed in order to bring her husband down and get custody of her sons.”

He paused, allowing Yuuri to meditate the words. It started making a whole lot more sense now. It coincided with everything Viktor had confessed earlier, and objectively, Yuuri could understand the reasoning behind the choices she made. He was just so sorry for the price they all paid for that to happen. He remembered what he had told Viktor when the other had been so convinced that his mother was the one to bear the blame. Maybe he had had an intuition then already. In the new light his father had provided him, he could see how in fact, she had been the one thinking about both Viktor and Yuri. 

Upon realizing something he looked up once more. “If she’s here _now_ ,” he started, weighing his next words. “Does this mean she has what you need to put an end to all this?”

His father smiled gently in answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Yuuri doesn't get a break... 
> 
> I apologize if the investigation-talk got slightly confusing (I know it was because I got confused writing it - and I had to rewrite it dozens of times to make it actually fit). Don't worry about the details, they don't really matter as long as you've caught the main mafia culprits + Elena's involvement and how it ties to Yuuri-Viktor. 
> 
> Also, congrats to those of you who suspected her involvement in some way! :D I promise we'll learn more about what exactly she's been up to! :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit shorter than usual - but Yuuri has a lot to unpack anyway soooo...
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! :D

He felt utterly drained. Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. His breathing was slow and heavy, as if the air was thicker than usual. The ride home had been eerily silent, filled only by his occasional sniffs. He’d allowed his head to fall against the window, his eyes staring into emptiness hoping that the careful driving of his mother would lull him away from the jungle of thoughts he was utterly unable to process. 

After learning everything about the case, Yuuri had suddenly felt a wave of despair wash over him. It was so much bigger than he’d ever thought… And so much more complicated too. As far as he was aware of, this was the biggest case his father had ever worked on, and by extension, for him too. 

The usual thrilling feeling that took over him upon starting on a new case or uncovering evidence, didn’t hit him this time. His curiosity being his default mode, he’d still listened and he’d still answered to what his dad had said. But he couldn’t shake off the uneasiness coming from discovering how entangled with his personal life it really was. 

He felt deeply wronged by being kept away from the major events of the case and most of all, crushed about learning just how rooted this case was with his own past with Viktor. Hadn’t it been for the afternoon’s events or how personal this case had suddenly became, he would have felt ecstatic about the overload of information he got to receive. Horrified by the nature of the crime at hand obviously, but eager to help solving it. 

Now, all he could feel was emptiness. It was like all his energy had been sucked right out of him, leaving a terrifying and painfully hollow feeling at the pit of his gut for sole company. He had been sad and furious and devastated. 

Like a light bulb supplied with too much energy would explode, now he was empty. And somehow that felt worse. 

His father had been about to bring him home himself when his mother had called to ask if his dad needed a lift home since she had been out getting supplies for the inn. She hadn’t looked surprise to find Yuuri at the office, and if she noticed the lifeless look in his eyes when he climbed in the car, she didn’t comment on it. 

He crossed the hallway to his room, dragging his feet and fell limp on his bed as soon as they got home. His mother didn’t utter a word, and he was grateful for it. His eyes were puffy, red and irritated and he had to fight the urge to rub his hands over them. His throat felt like sandpaper and the painful lump hadn’t completely disappeared, making itself known every time Yuuri thought back on the events of the day.

How grateful he would be if his thoughts would stop reeling over it all, and just rest. He just wanted, _needed_ , the sleep. He had run away from Viktor because he didn’t want to think about what he had confessed just yet. He had run to the office and his dad had unintentionally provided him with more elements to fill the blanks from what Viktor had said, but ultimately more things for his mind to reel on. Now that he was home, he simply wanted to sleep, try and forget it all, just for a little while. 

He was way too emotional right now to think rationally, whether it be about Viktor, the Sulliman Case, Elena Nikiforova, or even about trying and piece out how Anya fitted into all that. 

He must have drifted off at some point because when he opened his eyes again, the sun had lowered and the alarm clock was showing 7pm. He exhaled deeply, face contorting as he pushed himself up. Gosh, how shitty was it possible to feel? He had a massive headache after all the tears, coupled with the lack of sleep and absolutely no wish to deal with any of this shit. 

He heard footsteps in the hallway, padding over to his room, and he watched as the door was pushed slowly open after a small knock, as if to give him time to warn whoever it was not to open it. 

His mother’s head appeared behind the wood panel, her face lit up with the warm smile she always greeted him with. 

He tried his best to return it, although it probably looked just as strained and forced as it felt. He didn’t dare hope that she wouldn’t notice; he wasn’t delusional enough for that. She pursed her lips so quickly he almost thought he imagined it, and came in the room, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. 

“How was your day?” she asked, voice soft and tone comforting as she took in the sight of his probably horrifyingly ugly face. She probably already knew it was bad, but he had the intuition that it wasn’t exactly what she was asking. 

How to answer that without lying?

“Hum…” he started, but trailed off as he tried to conceal his emotions with a breathy and perfectly unconvincing chuckle. His face probably confirmed what she already suspected, because she gave him a sad but reassuring smile, setting her hand on his shoulder. 

And that was it. 

He felt a new wave of tears bursting through his impossibly weak dam, and as much as he wished he could have kept it all in, he was too tired to make the effort anymore. And his mother was here, and she was looking at him like that, and she was always the one able to calm him whenever it got too much. 

He glanced all around as he felt the tears roll down his cheeks slowly. “I think… I’m not sure,” he breathed out. 

“Come here,” she prompted, helping him get closer and she engulfed him in her arms, hugging him tight. He felt himself relaxed in her embrace, allowing the tears to fall down as they pleased. It wasn’t near the awful sobbing he had burden Phichit with earlier, but he still couldn’t quite keep it all under control. How in the holy hell did he still have tears to cry? 

Suddenly he felt like his 11 year old self again, during the weeks after Viktor had violently pushed him on the ground. He would often come back home and flop on his bed, unable to eat anything at all as he would break down into sobs. His mother was always the one coming to help pick up the pieces. She would hold him close, rocking him slowly as he sat on her lap, and stroking his hair soothingly. 

And here he was, six years later, still cradled in her embrace and holding onto her like a lifeline. 

She was shushing him, running her hand up and down his back as he cried quietly, and occasionally coughing a small sob. God, he needed that. He managed to calm himself down, and as the tears stopped flowing, he brought his hand up to his eyes, rubbing them free with precaution. He couldn’t yet look at her in the eyes, or else he knew he’d cry again. And he really felt tired of crying. His head was pounding painfully, and he really didn’t want to aggravate it. Even more than he already had, that is. 

She didn’t press, allowing him the time he needed to gather himself and his words. She wouldn’t ask any questions, but would always be waiting to listen if she recognized the signs of him needing to share something. 

Somehow, he wanted to tell her, although he knew some things he couldn’t share. Anything about the Sulliman case was off limit. Same thing with Elena. They had been incredibly close friends when Viktor’s mother was still in town, and he really had no idea how she would react upon learning she was back. 

But Viktor… Viktor perhaps he could talk about. She would probably be the most impartial, and neutral advisor of all. Before Elena left, Viktor and Yuuri spent just as much time at Viktor’s than they did at Yuuri’s. Spending holidays together, celebrating their birthdays together since they were one, and if anything his mother had adopted Viktor by association, just like Elena had done with Yuuri. 

Now that he thought about it, his mother had never spoken ill of Viktor, even in Yuuri’s worst moments. She would listen, hug him, help him sleep, force him to eat, but never had she blamed Viktor. 

Perhaps she knew more about this than she let on, but regardless in this particular case, it would serve Yuuri better than the alternative. 

So he told her. From the moment Yuri had come to ask his weird request and Viktor had his melt down in the bathroom, to how he had tracked down Makkachin and in doing so, worked closely with the one person he thought he could never get along with anymore. 

He couldn’t repress the smile that tug on his lips as he retold the moment they had found Makka, and how Viktor had looked then. 

When it came down to explaining what had gotten him into that state however, his voice cracked and he tightened his jaw almost painfully to repress the tears. God it hurt to speak. 

But he still did. He told her how Viktor had confessed it all, the reasons why he had pushed Yuuri away, and the events that had led up to it. At this point she had released her embrace, and he was sitting next to her, legs crossed into a pretzel and half facing her. 

“I couldn’t stay after he told me all that, I… needed time? I think… I don’t know how to deal with it. I know it isn’t Viktor’s fault; or I mean part of it is, but I suppose he has extenuating circumstances. I just don’t know how to face him. I was so angry, I didn’t think I could face him.”

He was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, a nervous gesture he rarely allowed himself anymore, and noticing that he probably wasn’t finished speaking, she kept quiet, intently listening as he tried to think over what to say next. 

“Mom, I don’t know what to do,” he said finally, swallowing heavily. “I don’t understand… I can’t understand why he would discard our friendship like that… I mean I do but I don’t,” he added with frustration as he looked upwards. 

He could try and understand, and in fact he sort of did, because his thoughts wouldn’t shut down. 

“I wish he’d never have listened to his father,” he almost spat. “I hate what he did to Yuri and Viktor, I hate that Viktor listened. I think I’ve never hated anyone like I hate his father right now.” 

“Yuuchan,” his mothered said softly but with authority, and he lifted his eyes back up to her face. “Don’t go there.” 

He sighed in frustration. That was easy to say. She wasn’t the one who’d just been poured an ice cold bucket of water over her head with a side of a story she thought she had known, and whose certitudes had been shattered. Again. 

“Don’t think I don’t understand where you come from,” she said gently. “Because I do, and you have every right to feel that way. But you shouldn’t dwell on _that_ particular feeling.”

Yuuri blinked in surprise as understanding dawned on him. Just like earlier when he had been with Viktor, he had focused on anger, and when the anger had faded just a little, he had run away because he had been unable to deal with the deep layers of pain that ran underneath it. 

He swallowed, his face scrunched up in hurt. 

“I don’t think I can,” he simply breathed out, certain she would understand what he meant. He couldn’t face the pain. He didn’t know how. It was easier to be angry. 

“I know you can Yuuchan, and in fact, you don’t really have a choice. If you don’t, it will only hurt you more and longer.”

She stayed silent a few minutes, although he didn’t really notice because he had once more gotten very interested in his hands as they were resting on his ankles, unable to meet her eyes. 

“You know,” she finally added, “I have never been so heartbroken than when you came home that day after school, crying your heart out because Viktor had pushed you and screamed at you.” 

His eyes snapped back up, unable to contain the surprised frown that settled naturally on his face. His mouth fell agape, unsure what to say to that. It seemed he didn’t have to think of anything, because she continued. 

“I had to hold you for hours as you sobbed in my arms. You couldn’t speak, and each time you tried, you’d start crying harder. We couldn’t get a single word out of you, and when you finally fell asleep it was with your face drenched in tears. You looked like your entire world had suddenly exploded,” she said with a sad smile. “Thinking back on it, I think it did.”

He frowned once more, failing to see what she meant by that. 

“It took you time before you finally managed to be your old self again. It took months of crying, not eating, not sleeping and Phichit for you to finally grow out of your pain. But eventually you did, and you became such a strong and kind young man.”

A small smile claimed his face at that, a single shaky and breathy chuckle escaping through his lips. He was still confused, but the fond tone with which she was talking warmed his heart.   
She got his attention right back when she tilted her head to the side, watching him intently. 

“But Yuuri, things haven’t changed so much.”

He jerked a little, then shook his head. “I don’t… What do you mean?”

“I mean that my incredibly brave, smart, and beautiful son hasn’t cried for a very long time; in fact, you protected yourself so well all these years, that I have never seen you cry over anything since _that_ happened,” she explained, before smiling once more, with this all-knowing expression that unsettled Yuuri somewhat. “And now here you are, crying for the first time in six years, and over the same person you were back then.”

Yuuri’s breath hitched as he tried his best not to allow a tear to escape again. Yeah, here he was again. How pathetic was that? Phichit had warned him, his father had warned him - maybe not quite for these reasons, but still. He had warned himself too, hadn’t he? He’d told himself he shouldn’t get caught up in whatever Makkachin’s investigation would lead him in. But apparently it hadn’t worked out as well as he’d hoped, because he was back at square one, with freshly reopened wounds that he had worked so hard to try and heal. Perhaps they hadn’t healed as well as he had thought because it hadn’t taken long for Viktor, even if he hadn’t meant it, to reopen them. Oh god he felt so stupid for letting himself get sucked back in...

“I know you’d rather not think about it all, and that hiding behind the anger might be easier than to let all the emotions in. But I’m sure you know this isn’t what you _need_.”

She had a point. A very valid point that he was very tempted to ignore… She seemed to be able to read his face because her smile softened into fond indulgence and she reached up to cup his cheek, soothing it with her thumb. 

“Honey, I think you should sleep and think about it on your own later.” 

He could do nothing but nod, eyes closing as he took a deep breath. He definitely needed the sleep, and perhaps it would help to rest before he really tried to think about what to do. 

Or at least be in a better mindset to invent an excuse to get him busy and not think about it. 

Issue was, his main source of distraction in the last week had been the Sulliman case, and it was a little too close to home to be comfortable now. But that was a problem for later. 

He felt a little better after having talked with his mother. Lighter in a way, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Nothing was solved: he was still angry, but mostly deeply hurt and he had to sort out his own thoughts. But perhaps this would be enough for him to fall asleep. 

“Let me tuck you in when you’re ready to sleep,” his mother said gently as she got up. As soon as he had changed into his pajamas, she came back in the room and did as she promised, tucking him in and kissing his forehead just like she used to when he was younger and still did whenever he had had a particularly bad day. She cupped his cheek, smiling down at him. 

“Good night Yuuchan.”

“Good night mom.”

Maybe tomorrow would be better.

******

Tomorrow was not better. 

Yuuri almost destroyed his alarm again and felt like someone had hit him with a frying pan. Apparently the splitting headache that was pounding in his head hadn’t gotten the memo that sleep was actually supposed to help getting rid of it. 

He groaned his way out of bed, sitting on the edge as the reasons why he was feeling like that came back crashing down on him and the events of the past 24 hours hit him like a truck. 

His shoulders sagged and he sighed dejectedly, allowing his eyelids to flutter shut. He didn’t feel like crying anymore, despite still feeling sick to his stomach. He probably had cried way too much the day before, and considering how dry his eyes felt at the moment, it wouldn’t surprise him if he could not shed a tear in his life ever again. 

Instead of getting a move on starting the day, Yuuri stayed there, motionlessly sitting on the edge of his bed, hands on his laps like he didn’t know what good they were for anymore. 

He thought bitterly that the same could be said about him at the moment. How was he supposed to go to school, and face Viktor? After everything he had told him, after he had ran away, and now that he knew that his long lost mother was in town and that his father was potentially a mafia actively trafficking human beings in collaboration with their classmate’s dad.  
What could go wrong? 

He sighed and closed his eyes for a second; one second he could pretend like he wasn’t a hot mess and like the shittiness barometer of his life hadn’t reached its maximum. 

He turned towards his phone when it beeped; notifying he’d received a text. He extended his arm toward the device still on the nightstand to check out what it was, half slumping on the bed as he tried to reach it. Propping himself back straight, he tilted it towards him and the screen lit up. 

**Mari**  
Get your sorry ass to school lil’ bro. 

He couldn’t help but smile thinking his mother had called upon his sister to the rescue in shaking him up. She wouldn’t win an Oscar for inspirational quotes, but he appreciated the sentiment. 

He sighed again but this time he had the hint of a smile ghosting his lips as he got up. He could do this. 

He might have spectacularly failed at not getting caught up in the emotional roller coaster that spending time with Viktor invariably meant, and he might have dramatically destroyed his credibility with his best friend but he hadn’t lied about not being the same vulnerable kid he’d been.   
Well that, and the fact that his sister was actually very capable of coming back to town just to kick his ass all the way to school. That was motivation enough for anyone with a decently half-functioning self-preservation instinct. 

Either way, he sure wasn’t going to mope around eternally, and feeling sorry for himself. He couldn’t. The lump in his throat was still there, and the only way he knew to get rid of it, was to pretend it wasn’t there and get going on something else. 

So he got up, and hopped into the shower, allowing the warm droplets to wash over his face. Turning around to let the water hit his back, he tilted his head back wetting his hair. He brought his hands up, pushing it back as he took in several deep breaths. 

It was shitty. On more than one level, this situation was fucked up. But ducking his head in the sand was simply not going to work this time. He wished he could have had more time to process all of it before he had to see Viktor again though… He wasn’t sure he was capable of lying to his face. Lying by omission was still a lie. Or at least it felt like it. 

He stretched his shoulders, both hands gripped together in the back of his neck, hoping it would ease the tension slowly but surely accumulating in the trapezius. Sighing, he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, pulling a towel around his waist when he heard a determined knock on the door. 

Yuuri creased his brows, surprised to have anyone at their house this early. Anyone looking for the onsen really couldn’t mistake their house with it. He was about to pull on a shirt before seeing to it, but a second knock made him backtrack on that decision and he quickly strode over to the door, first looking through the peephole. 

“What the…”

He opened wide, not caring anymore that the sole cover he had on was an old towel. 

“Like the outfit,” his best friend commented, one eyebrow raised and his lips playing with a cheeky smirk. 

Yuuri deadpanned, and sighed. “Phichit, what-“

“Just making sure you weren’t going to skip school.” Phichit just shrugged like it was the most evident answer in the world. Which Yuuri didn’t buy, but his friend didn’t relent. 

Besides, Yuuri knew how to read between the lines at this point. Phichit wasn’t there to make sure he would go to school, but just to help. For which Yuuri was grateful, and he smiled, nudging his head toward the house to invite Phichit in. 

“I thought I would take Vicchan out before going to school,” he said, and Vicchan barked at the announcement. 

Phichit chuckled. “Sure, I’ll go with you. It’s been a while since we last played fetch.”

Yuuri gave him a look. “It’s been a while _you_ haven’t played fetch. He and I play it almost every day.”

“Whatever. Go wear something decent and we’ll go!”

Yuuri just hummed, retreating back towards his room and pulled out a pair of jeans and the first shirt he could get his hands on. 

“Ready,” he announced, emerging in the living room with his keys in hand and a jacket half up on his shoulders. He clipped the leash onto the dog’s collar, and preceded Phichit out the door. 

The walk to the beach was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. It never was with Phichit. They knew each over too well to be bothered by occasional bouts of silence. It was calming in a way, and Yuuri realized he felt more settled now than he had since he came back home the day before. 

Yuuri reached down when they harbored the edge of the turf and the beach, releasing Vicchan from the leash. The toy poodle darted off, running straight to the water and coming back as the two walked in the sand after removing their shoes. The little dog jumped and barked excitedly around them and Yuuri couldn’t help the smile warmly at the sight. 

“It’s nice to see Vicchan like that.” Yuuri turned to look at his friend, whose eyes were set on the toy poodle, running off again towards the waves leaking the shore. Phichit then turned towards him and smiled. “I’m glad we were able to find Makkachin and Yun.”

Yuuri gave a big nod and he took in a deep breath. “Yeah, especially after the false hopes and days of despair Viktor and Seung-Gil had to go through.”

Phichit hummed in understanding. “Like when you were told Yun had been run over by a truck?”

Yuuri dropped his eyes, remembering the look of pure pain coating Seung-Gil’s features when he’d found him next to his car. He bit his lip, nodding. 

“And at the pound, before Hans revealed neither dog was dead…” he paused, not sure what he was going to say. 

The memory was vibrant, almost painfully so; how Viktor shook and cried, like everything had suddenly turned to ash around him. In a way, he had shared Viktor’s feeling at that moment. Regardless of how he ended up working on this case, he had invested a lot of himself in finding the dogs, and knowing he’d failed the case, added to the pain of presuming Makkachin gone, had been hard to bear. Despite knowing it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t have helped the twinge of guilt upon seeing Viktor’s face, as if he could have done more. And then Seung-Gil had completely lost it. 

“On hindsight, I’m glad Seung-gil got crazy and lashed out,” he blurted out. 

Phichit send him a vaguely quizzical look, and a small smile on his lips. Yuuri shrugged.

“If he hadn’t, Hans might not have talked. Guess a quick taser work is efficient.”

Phichit chuckled, and shook his head.

“I kinda did find that funny to be honest. Not really on the moment, I mean I was shocked over his reaction,” his friend quickly added, growing serious. “I mean, who knew Seung-Gil could suddenly lose it like that, right? Now though, I definitely think it’s pretty funny.”

“Yeah, me too. Turned out well in the end.” He grew quiet as he finished his sentence. 

Phichit noticed him closing off because he didn’t add anything either. Not that Yuuri would have minded if he had. But he still wasn’t really sure what to make out of all of this. 

“What happened? With Viktor?”

Yuuri didn’t look up at the question. Phichit had waited for them to be sat barely a few meters away from the wavelets crashing on the wet sand. He brought his knees towards himself, and circled his arms around them, allowing his leg to spread within the circle his arms formed. He didn’t feel the urge to cry, and unlike when he told his mother everything – or mostly everything – he knew he wouldn’t cry again. 

“It’s a long story,” he finally settled on. Both of them knew this wasn’t a code for “I don’t want to talk about it”, but more of a signal to allow him to gather his words. Which Phichit allowed him to do, picking up a dead branch instead and throwing it for Vicchan to fetch. 

Yuuri desperately wanted to explain everything. He hadn’t mentioned a single thing regarding the Sulliman case to his mother, but he was starting to think that if he could tell even only one person everything, he would feel better. 

He shared parts of the narrative with each of his parents: his dad knew the heavy psychological toll of the case for Yuuri, his mom about that of his relationship with Viktor. But both parts were too connected to each other and having to separate both to relieve his own turmoil was exhausting. He needed the fresh perspective, even if he knew that what he was about to do was really not his most brilliant moment. 

In fact, this was likely a very bad idea. But ultimately, he trusted Phichit with everything and knew his friend would never betray the confidence. He never had in the past and never would. 

Yuuri took in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, readying himself to explain it all. 

He didn’t stop before he had finished the whole story, Phichit’s only input being occasional frowns or wide eyed stare, sharp breath and non-committal hums. 

At some point, Vicchan had come back and nested himself between Yuuri’s legs, and Yuuri had started petting the small poodle back and forth as he finished the tale. Even then, it still sounded crazy to his own ears. How all of this could have happened in such a short amount of time? And it seemed like Phichit wasn’t sure what to do with all of it either because the usually incredibly talkative and bubbly person that was Phichit stayed eerily quiet. 

Finally he inhaled sharply. “That’s hum…”

“A lot, I know.” _Trust me, I know._

“And you kept this all to yourself without talking about it with anyone?” Phichit asked and Yuuri could most definitely hear the concern in his best friend’s voice. He shook his head, pursing his lips. His eyes were dead set on the gentle swell of the ocean, losing himself in the repetitive motion. 

“This is completely insane,” Phichit blurted out, horrified amazement creeping in his voice, a sentiment Yuuri definitely shared. “All of it, it’s just… I really never would have imagined that Viktor and Yuri’s father was this dangerous… And wait, you said he _threatened_ you?”

Yuuri turned to Phichit, who wasn’t looking to him anymore, wide eyes nailed to the ground and nostrils flaring and Yuuri clearly saw the turmoil of emotions coming on and off the lithe frame. 

While he, surprisingly, was eerily calm. 

He’d been so agitated over the past 24 hours that he didn’t really have the energy to be actively worked up over the whole thing. It still troubled him, to a point that his head felt like it was going to explode. But right at this moment, he felt…at peace? Somehow… 

Or perhaps resigned. Whichever it was, didn’t matter. Telling Phichit everything allowed him to get rid of the weight he had been carrying alone. His father had uncovered the deep layers of the Sulliman case in one go, filling in many blanks while creating so many others, while his mother had placated him over the too vivid swirl of emotions that had been clouding his mind and heart the day before regarding Viktor. 

With Phichit, it was as if he had erased the slate in one go. Everything was still there obviously, so many questions needed an answer and so many painful shards in his chest were stinging him whenever he thought back of the mess he needed to sort out. But at least his mind was clearer. 

Phichit snapped back to him, taking him in in silence for a minute. Before he took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. 

“And to believe that these two things were connected… I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must have been to learn all of that in one day. That your dad’s case is technically what caused you and Viktor to drift apart and… and that for so long, Viktor was in just as much pain as you. His mom she… and now she’s back! It’s completely unbelievable.”

Yuuri wiggled an eyebrow. “Well believe it. My dad doesn’t lie.”

Yuuri noticed how his friend snapped his mouth shut over the comment. Maybe he had been a little harsh. 

“Well, that’s not what I was saying in the first place,” he started clearly unsure how to express himself, before he added with more conviction: “but now that you say that, he did avoid telling you most of the truth about the case.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes, turning his head to Phichit who wore the very familiar expression screaming “well that’s true”. Yuuri tilted his head back, staring into the emptiness of the sky as he sighed. 

“I don’t know if you should tell Viktor any of that though. About his mother and all… If it took so long for your dad and his mother to get to this point, telling Viktor could jeopardize it all. But…” he hesitated for a brief moment. “But I think you’ll have to talk to him at some point; about what he told you before you ran away.”

Yuuri didn’t do a good job at refraining the urge roll his eyes and he snapped before thinking about it. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He received a sharp smack on the arm, and he turned to Phichit wide eyed. “What the hell-“

“Don’t be a dick.”

“I wasn’t-“

“Yeah you were. I’m trying to help here and I know this is a lot to process and to deal with. But this isn’t my fault, so stop it! You may well ‘know’ that you need to talk to him, but I wouldn’t just go around repeating useless stuff over and over unless I thought you needed to hear it! Do I order you around? I don’t think so, mister-know-it-all! If I’m telling you, it’s that I’m pretty sure you’re gonna try to avoid it for as long as possible.”

Yuuri grew quiet at the explanation. 

“Am I wrong?”

He sighed, rubbing his hand over his mouth and chin in frustration. “I was going to talk to him.”

“But you don’t want to.”

He sent Phichit a dirty look. “Would you? Knowing what I know and considering our history and everything that happened this week, would you?”

Phichit had the decency of looking vaguely sheepish for a moment. “I guess not. But Yuuri, you and I both know you guys are past the point of ignorance.”

Yuuri frowned at the words, looking questioningly at his friend. “That’s a big change compared to last time we had a conversation with Viktor as the topic.”

“Yeah well, you said it yourself. A lot happened since last time we had this conversation.”

Yuuri hummed skeptically. 

“No but more seriously,” Phichit started again, shooting up on his feet to face him. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking at Yuuri’s feet for a second before lifting his eyes up to meet his. 

“I know what I said, and I don’t regret saying it. Considering all we knew back then, you played a dangerous game with your own feelings Yuu. But I saw you two interacting, and this really wasn’t something I was expecting. When we first talked about it, you told me he had been decent, you know, I think when you guys left the co-op.”

Yuuri nodded and Phichit took it in stride. “Yes well, I had a really hard time believing it. But as the days went by and as I saw you actually working with him to try and find the dogs… I don’t know, I just…” he grew quiet, eyes darting around as he tried to figure out what exactly he was trying to say. 

He seemed to grow frustrated and Yuuri could do nothing but watch. Phichit untangled his arms and sat on his knees in front of him, levelling their faces.

“What I mean is: I think it would be a mistake to let what you guys built this week go.” His look lost itself a little in what he was trying to say, and Yuuri couldn’t help but be taken aback at how sincere his best friend was. “So please, don’t play the ostrich and let this die.”

Black eyes met brown, and Yuuri clenched his jaw before he nodded. At the relief he saw on Phichit’s face he couldn’t help but smile a little.

“How did you get so worked up over this?”

Phichit shrugged it off. “You looked fine working with him. More than fine and it was nice to see that for a change.”

Yuuri lowered his eyes onto Vicchan when the poodle sneezed, letting the words sink in. He really did enjoy working with Viktor in the end. 

“I know this situation is shitty,” he looked up at Phichit’s words. “And I know you can’t tell him about his mother being back or his father’s business. But talking to him about what happened between you too is a good first step.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? :) 
> 
> I'm glad I could include the bit about explaining how Elena and Hiroko were friends and how it brought our boys together - my mother met my godmother when they were both pregnant and her son is and has always been my best friend (maybe I should say brother even). It's a special connection that Viktor and Yuuri shared (and no one is fooled, will be more than just best friends in their case but yeah). 
> 
> Side-note regarding the conversation Yuuri has with his mother and he starts berating himself regarding his relationship with Viktor? He definitely misunderstood what his mom was trying to tell him (classic Yuuri jumping first to berating himself) - she was simply trying to make him understand that he shouldn’t give up on his and Viktor’s relationship.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mystery continues...
> 
> This chapter is actually also quite short... It was necessary to cut there though so I hope you'll forgive me for that... Maybe if I have time, I'll post another one this WE, but no promises!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Phichit drove them to school and Yuuri didn’t protest. They didn’t live too far from each other, and it wouldn’t be too much of an issue for him to drop him off on their way back. 

When his friend cut off the engines, neither made a move to leave the car immediately. The drive hadn’t been spent in a heavy silence like it could have been expected, and in fact Yuuri had done his best not to mention anything he’d told Phichit at the beach, and his friend didn’t broach the topic either. It gave Yuuri a sense of normalcy that he had been craving for a while already but hadn’t been aware of before everything came crashing around him. 

When the rumble stopped and was replaced by silence though, the spell broke and the reality in which Yuuri found himself came back crashing on him. Viktor was gonna be there, and he had to pretend that nothing happened beyond his confession. 

Lying had never been an issue. He was good at it, it was part of his job and it had enabled him to get out of many situations. But somehow, he was finding this game of pretend to be much harder this time. Probably because he wasn’t doing it for a job. Not per se… He was lying to the face of someone that, for all intents and purposes, still mattered to him, and that had been and still was, suffering immensely because of a situation Yuuri knew enough about to relieve, if only a little. 

No matter how much he hated it, Viktor’s words were on a loop in his mind. That about his father’s fit of anger, about Yuri’s tears, about his own despair... And most of all, his blue eyes swimming with tears and the devastation coating his features. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. 

He felt Phichit’s eyes boring into him, but he refused to look up. The lump in is throat was there, throbbing, and he had to exhale slowly through his mouth to control his own breathing. 

“Yes you can. You’re Yuuri. I’ve seen you handling countless situations that were ten times more difficult than this one.”

Yuuri let out a breathy chuckle. True. But not comparable. 

“It was never this personal.”

Phichit sighed, deflating somewhat under the weight of the truth in Yuuri’s words. 

“You don’t have to talk to him today?” Phichit tentatively said, obviously trying to find a solution to a problem that didn’t have any satisfying one. 

Yuuri closed his eyes. “I can’t. If anything, I at least owe him the decency of addressing what he told me yesterday. I did run away from him. I know I had my reasons, that it’s understandable and everything but… still. It wouldn’t be right to ignore him.”

“You can’t tell him about his family,” Phichit warned. 

“I know that.” 

Still, they didn’t move. “I just need to pull myself together. I can’t go in there looking at worst like I’ve been to a funeral and at best like I’ve seen a ghost.”

Phichit frowned, dubitative, eyeing his best friend critically with his lips pursed. “How is seeing a ghost the best case scenario?”

Yuuri chuckled, and allowed himself another deep breath before he schooled his expression into a neutral one. “Ok let’s roll! Let’s not add being late to class to the list of why I’m almost sure I’m gonna hate today.”

Phichit laughed as they exited the car and their steps led them to the entrance of the school. 

He could do this.

***

He could not do this. 

“Damn it.”

“Yuuri you can’t continue cursing every two seconds.”

“Not as if it would be out of character.”

“Well sure, but you don’t usually punctuate every single one of your insults with destroying your French homework,” Phichit retorted with a pointed look down to his hands. 

Yuuri’s head snapped down and his frame deflated upon seeing the mess he’d made with his exercise sheet. 

“Fuck me. Not literally,” he added, seeing Phichit’s expression. “Shut up, I’m not in the mood.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” 

They both stopped in front of Phichit’s locker, and Yuuri leaned on the wall. Well, not so much “leaning” as collapsing himself against the surface. “What am I doing?”

“Hum, going through the day?”

“Phichit, please!”

His friend turned towards him, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time today. 

“We had that conversation in the car Yuu. And at the beach,” he said softly bit firmly. “You can do this. And very frankly even if you couldn’t, you don’t exactly have a choice, you said it yourself.”

Yuuri deflated further over the truth in Phichit’s words. Didn’t make anything better though. 

“I just…” he trailed off, unsure what he wanted to say. He had far too many options to pick from out of all the things that were throwing him off lately. 

Seemed like he didn’t really need to say anything, because Phichit had that expressions that said “I know”, and sympathy in his eyes as he took him in. 

Looking down at his shredded paper again, he rolled his eyes at himself. “I am a fucking mess.”

“Honestly, considering everything that happened lately, you look less like shit than I would have expected.”

Yuuri hummed non-committally. 

“Come on,” and Phichit nudged his arms with his fist. “We should go or Mrs Baranovskaya is gonna kills us.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes as he lifted what was left of his exercises. “Mrs Baranovskaya’s already gonna kill me.”

Phichit closed his locker and they both turned around the corner, reaching their classroom quickly. Yuuri faltered in his tracks upon crossing the threshold, but thankfully Phichit didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t mention it; or more accurately didn’t have time because their teacher was already ordering them to go sit down. 

Viktor was there. 

Sitting at this usual place, head down with strands of hair falling in his face and seemingly focused on his notebook left open on his desk. He didn’t raise his eyes when Lilia called them out for being a little late, and in fact he looked like he made it a point _not_ to look up. Yuuri bit his lip and went to sit next to Phichit. 

Now this was going to be harder than he had imagined. It was one thing to be reluctant to face Viktor himself, but if Viktor made it even harder by not acknowledging his presence, this was going to prove even more of a predicament. 

A vague sense of déjà-vu washed over him, and it wasn’t exactly a nice feeling. Although now at least, Yuuri knew why and on hindsight, Viktor kinda had the right to sulk over how Yuuri had ran away. _Literally_ ran away. 

He exchanged a glance with Phichit who shrugged, his expression apologetic, before his attention was suddenly drawn back to the reality, when Mrs Baranovskaya put her bony hand on his table. He lifted his head, only to see her slender frame towering him with a stern look. 

“What is _this_ supposed to be Mr Katsuki?” 

Yuuri’s eyes widen at the tone and he looked between the now destroyed sheet and her face, which by the way, held a calm and cold storm far more terrifying than any of the fit of explosive anger he’d seen coming from Mr Feltsman.

“Hum…I’m very stressed out because of midterms Mrs Baranovskaya,” he tentatively said. 

Why on earth was it so hard to bullshit precisely at _this_ moment? Since when did he have trouble bullshitting? Like ever? 

“I have anxiety,” he added, almost whispering hating himself for using that as an excuse to save his ass. It wasn’t exactly far from the truth, but still…

She hummed, arching an eyebrow. She’d known him for long enough to know this wasn’t a lie, but that also meant she knew it had been a really long time since it had crowded him enough that it impacted his schoolwork. 

Entirely unexpectedly though, she didn’t press. She stared at him a few seconds longer than necessary, but then passed her way. He breathed in relief, but couldn’t leave the shock of sudden leniency off his face, and he threw a glance behind his shoulder, following her steps. 

The class was absolutely uneventful. They spent the hour correcting the exercises every students but Yuuri, had submitted and their teacher kept stressing the important points that they will have to be careful about for their upcoming midterm. 

Everyone had been particularly silent, listening intently. Everyone, but Yuuri. He couldn’t focus, and instead was trying to figure out how the hell he was going to approach Viktor upon the end of the class. His eyes kept flickering up to Viktor’s back every thirty seconds, as if he would suddenly disappear if he stopped checking. 

As soon as the bell rang, Yuuri almost jumped out of his seat. 

“Vikt-” 

But Viktor had almost leapt out of the room, his book and notebooks not even in his bag as he exited, leaving Yuuri behind. He hated the pang to his heart at Viktor’s retreating form. 

He winced, dropping down to grab his back and propping it up on the desk to gather his things. 

As he was about to turn around, he caught sight of the snarky smirk on Anya’s face and his eyes widen. 

His heart skipped a beat on the sudden realization. 

Holy shit.

He’d completely forgotten about Anya. 

***

“With everything that happened recently I let it slip off my mind!”

They were walking in the hallway, or rather, Yuuri was walking _fast_ and Phichit was practically running behind him. 

“What the hell? Yuuri what’s going on now?” He sounded a little short on air, but Yuuri was too caught up in his own head to notice. His mind was going too fast for his body to stay still. 

It was the smirk that had triggered it. That had put in motion his thinking, and now he couldn’t stop it. Anya had looked like a shark then, just as much as she had when she had come up to Viktor and he with her rude and cruel comments. 

Comments about his father, with a woman looking like Viktor’s mother. 

And merely hours later, his own father was actually confirming the story. Not that he’d been cheating, but that he’d been working on a case that had span over years that implicated both Anya and Viktor’s family. 

This was far too big not to be related. But what did _she_ know? And _how_ did she know?  
He wasn’t sure he knew what was the most shocking: that she knew about this at all, or that she had known that the words would cut Viktor deeper than anything else could have. 

His father had been crystal clear: Elena Nikiforova didn’t want to be found. She’d laid a low profile for about five years, escaping the scrutiny of the media and her family…and by extension the mafia. It seemed completely unthinkable that a girl like Anya would know anything about _that_. Neither his dad or Elena could have been so careless about this. 

He made a mental halt.

Then again, himself had seen his father lead Elena to her car the day before. They had been careless yesterday. Could it have been it? A simple coincidence, where Anya had found herself in the right place at the right time? In this case, wrong time and wrong place, but that wasn’t the point. Why in the world would Anya find herself in this part of town? It wasn’t exactly strolling material, many local shops that such a spoiled brat would never be seen entering. 

Something wasn’t right here. 

He recalled Viktor’s words after she’d approached them. She had been irrationally mean towards him lately, and he hadn’t been able to provide any answer as to why. Not that she needed any reasons for it, but Yuuri had never noticed any ill-feeling between them before. 

Damn it, this was impossibly confusing. The only connection there, was between Anatoly Nikiforov and Andrei - Bogdan - Dvornikov. How did Anya fit into that? Beyond being Andrei’s daughter?

He stopped dead in his track upon remembering something else , and Phichit came crashing into his back with a groan of pain. 

“What the fuc-“

He barely flinched, and instead turned around so fast it was Phichit who jerked back slightly, pausing mid movement with his eyes wide, eyeing Yuuri, and his hand over his nose. 

“What?” Phichit said, voice coming out vaguely muffled. 

“Hans,” Yuuri breathed out, which earned him a quizzical eyebrow and a deadpan expression. Which he barely acknowledge because he was already looking away. 

“What about Hans?” Phichit added, just as Yuuri was turning on his heels again. “Damn it, Yuuri! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Yuuri looked behind his shoulder just as he walked, nudging his head forward, motioning to his friend to catch up. He waited for Yuuri to be half-jogging next to him to follow the pace before he spoke again. 

“I just realized something that completely escaped me before and that I should have remembered. And I can’t help but thinking it’s related to the Case,” he added with a pointed look, which Phichit seem to catch because he frowned a little, nodding in understanding. “I’m not gonna explain it all here, let’s just go somewhere else after school and I’ll tell you.”

Phichit deflated as his curiosity was left hanging. “I guess you’re right. Besides, I don’t think either of our transcripts can take any more absences this semester.”

Yuuri shot him a look screaming “tell me about it.”

“I’ll see you later then Yuu, please don’t do anything idiotic!”

Yuuri made an offended face but before he could add anything, he received a gentle slap on the arm and a finger pointing at him as Phichit walked backwards. “Don’t make that face Katsuki, you’re the biggest troublemaker on this earth!”

“You mean after you, right?” Yuuri retorted, a cheeky smile claiming his lips. 

Phichit chuckled a crystalline laugh: “Always, my friend!”

Yuuri shook his head as he watched the retreating form of his best friend. He stood still in the hallway for a few seconds even after Phichit had turned at the corner of the hallway. There were still gaps in the narrative his mind was trying to create, and he hated that. 

Anya had been talking to Hans just the day they had found the dogs; he hadn’t understood why, and hadn’t been able to go to the bottom of it then but something had felt off. He couldn’t fathom a single reason as to why these two would be talking. It wasn’t like he knew either of them well, but he had absolutely never seen them hanging out together in all the years they had been in the same school. Anya was more than a snob, and she didn’t exactly befriend people she didn’t consider her status. Which didn’t include many people.

Regardless, he had the decisive impression that this too, wasn’t just a coincidence. Especially considering how she had bitched around them just the next day Hans had been arrested. There was something fishy here. 

_Maybe I could just ask Georgi if he knew of a friendship between the two? We never know right?_

With that in mind, he went over to his next class which, since he didn’t share it with any of his friends, might give him the opportunity to think more about what to do. Right before he entered the room though, he spotted Viktor across the hall and he stopped. 

Viktor was rummaging in his locker, and put a book in his bag before closing the metal door. As he lifted his eyes, they met with Yuuri’s. Yuuri opened his mouth to call after him, when the words died in his throat upon seeing Viktor drop his eyes, turning his back away from him once again. And he didn’t miss the flicker of sadness in Viktor’s eyes. 

Yuuri sucked in a sharp breath and closed his mouth at the retreating figure.

_Shit_

It hurt more than he would have anticipated. He swallowed the lump in his throat, the one that hadn’t left since the day before but which he had momentarily forgotten over the excitement of connecting dots in his father’s investigation. 

He sighed, more hurt than upset, and went in the classroom, just as the second bell rang. 

***

After looking for him for ten minutes, Yuuri finally managed to get a hold on Georgi. Unsurprisingly, he was disclaiming his love for Anya to Mila, who looked close to die from boredom. When she saw him approach, her face lit up like a Christmas tree and she took Georgi’s shoulder, proceeding to spin him around. 

“That was fascinating Georgi! But I think Yuuri wants to talk to you. See you later boys.”

Yuuri shot her an amused glare, but he wasn’t going to complain considering that was exactly what he’d been looking Georgi for. He was simply not looking forward having to hear a ten minutes long introduction of how Anya was a goddess. Especially since he was seriously starting to wonder if she wasn’t more of a demon. 

“Hi Yuuri! How are you?” Georgi greeted him with a smile, which Yuuri returned, even though he knew it was a little lackluster. 

“I’m good thanks, you?”

Georgi shrugged, making a dubitative face. “Not bad,” he said quietly before making a huge step forward coming barely a few centimeters away from Yuuri’s face who jerked back, incapable of doing anything else than stare, eyes wide as saucers. “but I could be _better_! I haven’t seen Anya in an hour.” 

Yuuri’s mouth fell agape, shoulders deflating. _Seriously_

For one of the most brilliant student of their year, Georgi was truly a dork when it came to relationships. 

Blowing out a huff of frustrated air through his nose, Yuuri tried to school his voice in not sounding too disagreeable. Complicated exercise considering how low his patience was. But we catch flies better with honey than vinegar. 

“I need to ask you something,” he quickly prompted before Georgi could throw himself into another demonstration of what verbal torture meant. 

Georgi leaned back, all traces of his love-induced dementia melting away, his face focusing on Yuuri with a much more serious expression. Yuuri refrained from breathing out in relief, but he still felt glad that this wouldn’t be as big of a pain as he’d thought it would be. 

“Do you know any Hans? He goes at this school.” Georgi’s face scrunched up a little in focus and he turned his head away from Yuuri for a second, thinking about it. 

“I don’t think so,” he said slowly, but still trying to remember if he knew the guy. Yuuri waited more or less patiently but perked up upon seeing his friend’s face lit up. “Oh wait, yes now I see! Yes sure, I know him! Sorry there, I haven’t been hanging out with him for a while!”

And Yuuri really didn’t lose time. “Is Anya friends with him?”

Georgi’s entire form hunched in on himself, face falling as he looked at Yuuri with wide teary eyes. "Is Anya leaving me for him?”

Yuuri’s eyes bogged out in surprise. “Wait, what? No! Absolutely not!” He almost yelled, hands hovering over Georgi’s shoulders like he was an alien species he had no idea what to do with. 

“Georgi please calm down,” Yuuri begged when he saw tears threatening to spill over. “She’s not leaving, I’m just asking cause I thought you guys were friends, and I needed to ask him something. And since you and Anya are practically tied to the hip, perhaps she knew him too!”

Georgi’s sobbing immediately subdued, leaving Yuuri at lost for words, and breathing a little harder than he should after what was supposed to be a simple conversation. How in the bloody world could Georgi be so prone to emotional swings? 

“Oh. Ok then. I thought so too, that would be weird,” Georgi said with a vaguely petulant tone, and Yuuri deadpanned. 

_Fucking seriously? ‘You thought so too’!? You’re the one who almost starting gross sobbing over this!_

Wait. 

“What do you mean it would be weird?”

Georgi shrugged, completely oblivious to how quickly Yuuri’s stance changed from deadpanning to curious.

“She’s very delicate, and she doesn’t like Hans. He works with dogs all day, and she’s always complaining that he’s dirty, and probably has germs all over.”

Right there and now, Yuuri didn’t know if his mind just blanked over the information, or actually exploded. 

Then what the bloody hell had Anya been doing talking to Hans?!

“So they’re not friends?”

Georgi shook his head in wide motions. “Nope sir.”

Yuuri didn’t comment on the fact that Georgi himself had completely lost it because he thought they were lovers barely ten seconds prior. 

Having the confirmation of what he suspected didn’t advance him further, but at least now he knew that there was definitely something wrong with Anya’s behavior. And considering the nature of her threats, he had a hard time believing that his missing dog case and the Sulliman case were entirely unrelated.

He looked back up from the ground where his eyes had landed while he was trying to process what he’d just learned.

“Ok great, thanks Georgi, I’ll see you around!” 

He quickly spun on his heels, taking out his phone and glancing back and forth between the screen and the hallway to avoid colliding into anyone. He needed to ask JJ a favor. Again. He was vaguely feeling bad about using the other like that, but he didn’t doubt for a second that JJ would be more than happy to have an opportunity to show how useful he was. Big ego and all that. 

As soon as his text was sent, he locked the phone and put it back in his back pocket. He needed to talk to Hans. If she and Hans were not friends, she should have had no reason to talk to him… He was missing something. Perhaps JJ could ask his father to let him speak with him, even for a few minutes. 

Yuuri pushed the doors of the patio, intending to join Phichit, Takeshi and the others for break. Just as he was emerging outside and in the sun, pulling him out of his thoughts, was Viktor, seating on the same bench they’d been when he’d told Yuuri everything. He couldn’t help the way his breath was cut short at the sight. 

He took a step forward carefully, unwilling to notify Viktor he was there. He really didn’t want him to escape for the third time today. He was starting to understand Viktor’s frustration from earlier this week when Yuuri had run away from him all day long. 

Before he could make any other movement, he was tackled in a headlock by a much larger body, and a booming voice in his ear made him flinch. “There you are Yuu! We’ve been waiting for you, we wanted to talk about the pre-party for tomorrow!”

Yuuri squirmed trying to get away from Takeshi’s hold, wincing at the uncomfortable posture his head and neck were. He tried to open one eye to peak up at Viktor as best he could, and he felt himself going limp when he noticed a flutter of silver hair as Viktor went back inside from across the patio walkway. 

“Damn it…” he mumbled, and he tapped on his friend’s arm a few times, “Takeshi please let me go.”

“Oh yup! Sorry!” Takeshi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a quirky smile. 

“Hey Yuu, how’s the rest of the morning been- Oh that bad hah?” 

Yuuri turned to Phichit, sharing a knowing glance with him, before averting his eyes. 

“Still no word from Viktor?” Phichit asked, his tone apologetic. 

Yuuri sighed. 

“Does deafening silence count?” he said a little bitterly as he looked back at Phichit who offered him a small smile. 

He didn’t miss the way Takeshi’s head jerked forward in surprise, eyes bogging out. 

“Viktor? I thought you found his dog already…” he asked, voice growing quieter. “So you’ve actually been spending time with him?”

He threw a glance at Takeshi, shaking his head in hope it would tell him not to prod. He didn’t feel like talking about it. And even if he did, it wasn’t like he could actually express the extent of his frustration since half of this shittiness was due to a fucking mafia case. 

He sighed heavily, feeling trapped. He couldn’t even feel mad at Viktor because the most likely reason why this silent treatment was even happening was because Yuuri ran away. 

He gritted his teeth, starting to get tired over the situation. 

“You know what?” he shot up and then started walking towards the door behind which Viktor had disappeared. He heard the faint gasp from Phichit, and the incredulous blabbering questions of Takeshi as he started jogging to catch up after the silver-head. 

He wasn’t exactly sure _what_ he was going to tell Viktor. He only had one thought in mind, and that was to actually try and sort out this shit show before it drove him to insanity. 

He went through the doors and stopped in his tracks, turning his head to both right and left trying to spot Viktor. He located him just as the silver-head was turning the corner of the hall, and he took off in a sprint behind him, restraining himself from calling his name. 

As he turned, Viktor was barely a few meters in front of him, almost no one else around. How did this keep happening? 

“Will you stop running?” he shouted, drawing the attention of the (very) few people around toward him, and then to Viktor, who literally froze on the spot. Yuuri’s breathing was already calming down, but it still came in forceful inhales and exhales as he started walking again, more slowly. 

“Can you please stop ignoring me?”

He swore Viktor’s shoulders tensed at that, but he wasn’t sure why, so he continued walking, his voice getting less loud as he shortened the distance between them. 

“You’ve been running away from me all day. Can you please at least tell me why?” he asked, even though he already knew why. 

He circled around Viktor who absolutely hadn’t moved, and Yuuri couldn’t meet his eyes as they were downcast to the floor, nailed to the linoleum tiles as if he’d discover life’s meaning by staring at them. 

Yuuri took in the slightly hunched over form, eyes running from Viktor’s face to the tension in his shoulders and his clenched fists. He swallowed a little nervously, unsure of what he could do to dissolve the icy wall that seemed to have erected itself since the day before. He made a motion towards him, tentatively bringing his hand towards Viktor’s arm. 

He had barely touched him that Viktor flinched almost violently as if Yuuri had burnt him, and he retracted his hand, clutching it to his chest. He froze, unable to do more than staring at Viktor, horrified. 

Memories came flashing in front of his eyes. He was eleven, in a hallway so similar to this one, Viktor was flinching away… 

His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour, and he suddenly felt sick. 

This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Why was it happening again? He couldn’t take it again. He didn’t want to take it. 

If Viktor pushed him away again, he won’t be able to stand it… Not this time… it was too much, it was-

“I’m sorry Yuuri,” a soft voice told him and he snapped back up. “Please calm down.” 

When had he started breathing this fast? Viktor was looking at him, pain mingled with concern dancing in his eyes. He shook his head, visibly swallowing hard as he took a step back from Yuuri. 

“I’m sorry, I just really can’t talk to you right now. Just don’t… just calm down…” he lamely added, before he walked backwards a few steps and turned around, starting running after a few meters. 

Leaving Yuuri a mess behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't I say we weren't out of the woods yet? 
> 
> Thanks again so much for reading!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't have time to upload another chapter this weekend in the end... Sorry about that, but here's chapter 20! :) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

He closed his eyes slowly, exhaling as deeply as he could, trying to calm his heart and breathing, still shell-shocked over what just happened. He would almost slap himself internally. 

_Get your shit together_

He bit his lower lip, hard, the pain numbing the rest of his emotions that had been running haywire. Seeing Viktor flinch so, triggered a spiral of memory of the events that had led them on diverging paths so many years ago. 

Yuuri was being stretched thin over the latest events, and couldn’t help but miss the resting uneventful school monotony he used to live before all this happened. 

He knew damn well he couldn’t do anything about it now though, and he tried to resolve himself to think about this clinically and rationally. The altercation with Viktor just now was proof enough that this was going to be much harder than he had hoped. 

Without lingering a second more in the hallway where he was still the target of a few onlookers, he turned around to focus on what was most pressing right at this moment. 

Which was going to class, and hopefully not end up caught up in his own head in the process. 

***

As soon as he left the school, Yuuri drove to the Sheriff station to focus on another one of his worries. He had crossed paths with JJ at lunch, and he had reiterated that his father was waiting for Yuuri after school. Yuuri had been a little surprised at the lack of usual bragging JJ style, and the easiness with which JJ had helped; but he was very grateful. 

He hadn’t seen Viktor again for the rest of the day, the silver-head noticeably missing out on lunch while everyone else was around. He tried to not dwell on it by focusing on the other things that worried him, but he could still feel an itch in the back of his mind. 

He cut out the engine and went for the front steps of the station. Maybe he should get a subscription card with how much he seemed to be needing to go there recently. As soon as he was inside he went up to the front desk where a deputy with an odd-looking mustache was standing, staring into nothing. 

He looked up when Yuuri approached, and stared at him like an idiot for what felt like a full minute, his eyelids fluttering up and down slowly. 

Wow that guy was reactive. And he freaking looked like one of these sloth from Zootopia, too. In a much less funny and colorful way. 

“Hi, I think JJ mentioned something about me needing to visit Hans Nelson to Sheriff Leroy.”

The man didn’t budge, and then nodded. 

_Stay calm Yuuri, stay calm,_ he repeated like a mantra in his head, biting his lip in frustration. 

“Yuuri Katsuki?” 

Yuuri turned toward the voice, and met the eyes of an average-height man with greying hair and an affable look on his face. Slightly surprised he looked around out of instincts, although unless his birth certificate had miraculously changed overnight and someone else in this station shared the same name, he was still the only one to whom this could be addressed. 

“Hum yes?” 

The man’s demeanor changed from affable to warm, and made a step in Yuuri’s direction, extending his right hand. Yuuri shook it, albeit missing a beat or two, and looked back up to the man’s face. He looked familiar, and he realized why after he saw the sheriff insignia shining on his chest. 

“Sheriff Leroy,” he said more assured than he had been mere moments before. The man smiled and nodded. 

“JJ told me you would come by this afternoon. I didn’t know you guys were friends.”

Yuuri smiled awkwardly and refrained from blurting out a “me neither”. It probably wouldn’t come across well…especially considering he was debating the truth of that statement since the recent development. Instead he schooled his expression into a more neutral smile, hoping the topic would be dropped because he really had no idea how to elaborate on it. 

“Right; follow me then,” Leroy said, nudging in the opposite hallway direction before leaning towards Yuuri with an air of secret confidence. 

“Our coffee machine’s been broken for about a week, and this fellow doesn’t function well without coffee,” he explained looking at the said man at the front desk like he was a hopeless case. 

It tugged a polite smile on Yuuri’s lips, unwilling to be disrespectful although he really only wanted to shake the sloth over there. 

_It’s bloody 4 in the afternoon_. 

He was led into another room where the three small cells were. Hans was in one, and his boss in another, while the third one remained empty. They looked up as they came in, and the strength of the glare he received was so virulent than any other person would have flinched. And despite the recent fucked up emotional roller coaster Yuuri seemed to be stuck in, he still had enough backbone to handle this kind of shit. Besides he was way too satisfied to see them there to be bothered. 

He cocked his head to the side, a cocky smile playing on his lips with more confidence than he felt. “Hi Hans.”

“Alright, I’m leaving you to it then. You can’t stay longer than twenty minutes, so I’ll come back later if you haven’t left yet,” Leroy told him and Yuuri nodded his understanding. 

Hans’ whole body language screamed his curiosity at receiving a visit, but Yuuri noticed how it was dampened down by a hint of – albeit legitimate– defiance.

He didn’t say anything, simply waited for Yuuri to make the first step, and Yuuri quite readily obliged. 

“I wanted to ask you a question about something that intrigued me a few days ago,” Yuuri started as he approached Hans’s cell. 

There wasn’t anywhere to sit, so he simply stayed there, at a reasonable distance of the cell. Hans furrowed his eyebrows, waiting for Yuuri to elaborate. 

“Why were you talking to Anya Dvornikova, right after I left your van? I didn’t know you two were friends,” Yuuri explained, leaning on the wall next to the cell. 

Hans took in a deep breath as he understood what Yuuri was getting at. For a little moment, he looked like he was debating whether he would answer him or not, and even if Yuuri couldn’t really see any other way to ask the question, he briefly wondered if he should have been so blunt. He was the one in need of information, and Hans was under absolutely no obligation to answer. 

But apparently, he finally decided that refusing to speak just for the hell of spiting Yuuri really wasn’t worth it, because he leaned back against the wall of the cell, losing the defiance he had been harboring mere instants before. 

“We’re not. Friends I mean,” he started, sounding particularly laconic. “She came to me to get a dog from us.”

Yuuri managed to hide his surprise somewhat, but it didn’t impede him from flinching a little. That simply did not make sense. On so many levels. He doubted Hans was lying, he really didn’t have any reasons to, and to be quite frank he didn’t look like someone who was lying. But Georgi did tell him explicitly that she didn’t like dogs mere hours before. 

“How did she know you were selling dogs? And did she say why?” 

Hans shrugged, visibly not caring much about what Yuuri was enquiring. 

“There’s barely a handful of people who knew what we were doing; I suppose she had contacts with someone who did. I didn’t really question it; as long as she didn’t out us I really couldn’t give a damn how she got the info.”

“That doesn’t make sense… Why would she want to buy one of your dogs?” Yuuri asked, half under his breath and mostly to himself. 

Hans’ shrug made him look up at him. “How should I know?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Very helpful, thank you. So that’s why she came to see you earlier that day? To ask if she could buy a dog from you?”

Hans scoffed, eliciting Yuuri’s surprise. “You could say that.”

Yuuri was going to quickly lose his patience if this kept on. 

“Can’t you be more specific?”

“You’re the one asking for _my_ help,” Hans retorted, levelling a challenging gaze at Yuuri before getting up and closing up the distance to the bars of the cell. 

He passed his arms between them, nonchalantly crossing his hands on the other side as if they were just having a pleasant chat over tea. Yuuri narrowed his eyes as he observed Hans’ maneuvers but didn’t say anything. He was very well aware that Hans could decide at any point that he was tired of helping him out. In fact, Yuuri was wondering why he’d agreed to it in the first place. 

So instead he waited to see if Hans would continue. The other was leaning against the bars, staring up at him with a smirk. 

“She wanted a poodle,” he finally relented, drawing out the syllables like it was some precious treasure. 

_Of course she did._

Yuuri gritted his teeth to avoid the escape of another snarky comment and instead cocked his head to one side. 

“And you miraculously happened to have one.”

Anya wanted to hurt Viktor; at this point, that much was certain. The main question was, why? 

He felt like he had puzzle pieces spread out in front of him, but they none fit together. He couldn’t help but consider that it was linked to the Sulliman case… There were only hints here and there that maybe it could be related… Nothing conclusive, and yet he couldn’t shake off the nasty foreboding that it was connected… Then again, Yuuri had a very hard time imagining either Anya or Viktor aware of their father’s dealings, so where did Anya fit in all this? 

Yuuri frowned. An even stranger issue – as if it wasn’t already far stranger than average –imposed itself in his mind. How in the bloody hell would Anya think of asking _Hans_ , of all people, for a dog that she had no way of knowing he even had? 

He almost startled when a cold snicker resonated in the room, pulling him out of his thoughts to look back at the detainee. Yuuri frowned, getting strangely unsettled at the manic look on Hans’ face. 

“I wish you could see yourself,” he managed to say between two laughs, shaking his head. “You look so puzzled it’s comical.”

Yuuri should have felt offended, but he was dying to know what the hell this was about. He was about to ask when Hans managed to calm himself down. 

“It’s my bad, I probably should have specified. We didn’t _miraculously_ have a poodle,” he started, pausing as he stared at Yuuri dead in the eyes to assess the effect of his words. “The only reason why we had a poodle in the first place, was because she asked for one.”

What. The. Fuck. 

And he said as much out loud, eliciting a breathy and dry chuckle from his informer. 

“Yeah, she was very particular in her _order_ too.” 

Yuuri instinctively cringed at the mention of Hans’ scheme but he couldn’t utter a word as Hans didn’t seem to want to stop talking anymore. 

“Yeah you see, she didn’t want any poodle.” Yuuri refrained from gritting his teeth in frustration for he knew where this was headed and he hated it. “She wanted Nikiforov’s poodle.”

Yuuri let out a sharp breath he hadn’t realized he’d kept in, eyes fluttering shut for a second. This was definitely the shittiest fucking drama ever. 

“I don’t suppose you happened to learn why?” he gritted, words strained with annoyance. 

_Because she hates Viktor’s guts for whatever fucked up reason, and she figured stealing his dog was the best way to act on it_ his mind graciously supplied. 

Hans shrugged like he couldn’t care less, lips pursing. 

“Right,” Yuuri breathed out, completely unsurprised with the lack of reaction. 

“I told you not to take her offer,” the boss snapped. 

Yuuri spared a glance in his direction. He had barely moved since he’d come in, and even now, he wasn’t even looking away from his hands, which he’d clasped in front of him, with his elbows resting on his thighs. 

“Yeah well she was quite adamant and she said she would pay us good money,” Hans argued, tone edging on aggressive. 

“Look where that got us,” the other retorted as he finally looked up, only to glare at Yuuri. 

Yuuri didn’t react, but Hans clearly rolled his eyes. “Yeah well that wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh he’s right!” Yuuri couldn’t help but say. “That’s mine, and I’m all the more happy for it.” 

The boss turned a sharp eye at him, glowering. “Damn right, it is.” Yuuri raised an eyebrow, royally ignoring him. 

“She explicitly asked you for Viktor’s dog?”

“Viktor hah? I wasn’t sure of the rumors, but I guess that’s true then, you guys are friends again.” Hans commented, a sly smile on his lips. 

It sent Yuuri’s blood boiling surprisingly fast considering how calm he had managed to stay throughout the entire conversation. But Hans seemed to have found the only button to push to tip Yuuri’s patience over the edge. Never mind the sting at the reminder that “them being friends again” probably wasn’t even the case anymore. 

He couldn’t let his inner turmoil appear on his face. It would only set Hans onto a string of further taunting on the matter, and Yuuri really could do without. So instead he bit the inside of his cheeks, desperately pretending that this wasn’t affecting him. He probably did a good job at it, because the nasty smile slowly died off Hans’ lips and his face hardened again. 

“Yeah she did,” he relented. “I’m not stupid enough to steal Nikiforov’s dog without the promise of particularly greasy reward.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but notice that something was off. “But if you stole Makkachin for her, then why were you arguing on the parking lot?”

“Maybe you should ask him,” Hans answered with a nod in his boss’ direction. Said boss rolled his eyes and made a seething noise as he got up of the bench. 

“I told him not to sell it.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. That wasn’t what he’d been expected. 

“You came to the pound, not only looking for one, but two “missing” dogs, among which Nikiforov’s. Your reputation does precede you, _Yuuri Katsuki_ , and I wasn’t about to risk the whole operation over one client.”

Well that made sense. Anya had come to nag at them the very next day. Considering how conspicuous she had managed to remain all this time, this was a pretty big change of pace. Yuuri busted Hans and his boss’s scheme, thus turning her opportunity to get her hands on Makkachin to dust. Yuuri still had trouble wrapping his head around the lengths she had been willing to go just to get her hands on Makka. It really wasn’t sensical and he felt like he had more questions than answers. 

“That’s what you were telling her? On the parking lot, that she shouldn’t be waiting for Makka anymore?”

What would have happened to the dogs they couldn’t or just wouldn’t sell, Yuuri wasn’t sure he wanted to know. There was nothing that could be done now, and regardless of what they’d been carrying out, Yuuri had put an end to it. Meager consolation, but this was better than the alternative. 

“Yeah and she didn’t take it well.”

No shit. 

But that still didn’t explain what her end game was. He really doubted he would obtain any more valuable information by asking Hans. The guy obviously had been truthful in everything he’d said to Yuuri so far, but he couldn’t possibly have all the answers. 

“Was that all you needed, _detective_?” Hans said sardonically, the false politeness belied by the look in his eyes. 

Yuuri hadn’t planned on gloating, but hell, he wasn’t one to back out of a challenge when he saw one. 

“Yes it was. Thank you for your precious help. I’ll leave you two now, I’m sure you have so many more business to attend to.” He barely caught a glimpse of the dark look he received before he was already turned around and leaving the room. 

***

After leaving the station, Yuuri got back to his car and drove to Phichit’s favorite café, where his best friend had proposed they meet to chat about what Yuuri had been so frantic about. Phichit just thought that doing that over chai and matcha lattes accompanied by pastries would go down a little better. Or so he said. 

A cozy chatter welcomed him as he stepped foot in the dimly lit coffee shop, mostly populated by hyper caffeinated university students and hipsters addicted to vegan sweets. 

“Hey,” he greeted when he reached Phichit’s table. His friend leveled a look at him and his face broke into a smile, immediately mirrored by Yuuri. He put his jacket on the back of the chair and left his bag near the foot of the table, before sitting. 

“I see you’ve already started,” he said nodding in direction of the half eaten pain au chocolat in front of Phichit. Yuuri chuckled when Phichit tried as best he could to swallow the large chuck of the pastry before managing to say without spluttering a “was hungry.”

“I’m gonna get myself something,” Yuuri said after a second, feeling like he could use the warmth a macha latte would provide. He ended up getting a _croissant aux amandes_ too, it looked far too good not to be tasted. Phichit wiggled a playful eyebrow at him upon seeing him return with the pastry and Yuuri just gave him a smile with tight lips in return, eyes shining in expectant delight. 

He was about to engulf half of the croissant when Phichit’s voice made him look up. “You look better.” The look in his eyes was gentle, his expression soft as he took him in. 

He put down the sugary pastry, eyes cast down as he tried to gather his thought about the matter. 

A lot had happened in the last 24h, and he had managed to dissolve into more life crisis than most people did in a lifetime. Only thinking about the scene in the hallway this morning made him feel queasy at how visceral his reactions had been, and truth be told, that left him without the slightest idea about how to feel and what to think. 

He recalled Viktor’s eyes when he had tried to stop Yuuri from dissolving into a hot mess. They were filled with sadness and conflict. Not something he would have expected to see, but it had been there nonetheless and for some unfathomable reason, it at least dampened the sharp disappointment he felt at how quickly things had unraveled once again. 

Despite how striking the resemblance with what had occurred when they were eleven appeared in Yuuri’s mind that morning, with the benefit of hindsight, Yuuri knew that Viktor had not pushed him away the same way he had six years ago. He had looked like Yuuri felt: unable to sort out his own thoughts and feelings. If anything, Yuuri understood, and even if it hurt, he knew that confronting Viktor in the hallway the way he had might not have been the smartest idea. 

He sighed, playing with his napkin. He longed for some sort of resolution…a string he could pull that would untie this entire mess so that he did not have to think about it anymore. He knew better than anyone that it wasn’t so easy, and the only think he could actually _do_ was focus on what was within his control instead of letting his anxiety push in his face all the things he _couldn’t_ act on. Such as Anya… 

It was troubling him more than he anticipated. The only thing he was sure of at this point, was that she desperately wanted to hurt Viktor. That much was obvious. But how did that, and her involvement with Makkachin, factor in…well, the rest? He couldn’t shake the intuition telling him it wasn’t a coincidence that she became more aggressive around the time Yuuri knew the former CEOs that were Anya and Viktor’s father started rebuilding their business relationship. There was something fishy, and he hated it. Not only because it meant that it all tied up back to the Sulliman case, and that was frankly terrifying, but also because he had absolutely no idea how to figure out what exactly it meant. If it meant anything, his mind helpfully provided. 

“Yuu?”

He blinked and met Phichit’s eyes again, his friend having tilted his head to one side and observing him for the few minutes Yuuri had been silent. He exhaled, trying to recall the question, and smiled again, nodding a little to accompany his words. 

“I… think I am?”

“Why does this sound like there was a question mark at the end of your sentence?”

Yuuri deadpanned before breaking into a smile and letting out a breathy chuckle as he shook his head. 

“I don’t… I’m not sure exactly how I’m feeling. I just think I’m less overwhelmed now than I was, and that’s already a huge step up.”

Phichit nodded his understanding, sipping his chai . “I’m glad,” he said and Yuuri couldn’t help but notice the seriousness in his voice. His friend looked pensive and Yuuri waited for him to gather his words, hands coming around his cup, warmth seeping through. 

“You really got me worried,” he finally ventured. “You looked much better this morning than yesterday for sure, but you had me worried when you ran after Viktor and looked the way you did when I saw you next. Well that, and how crazy you looked after French.” Yuuri tried to smile at the tone of voice, although it probably only looked like a sad grimace. He met Phichit’s eyes, and was glad to find neutral sympathy. Not that Phichit would ever pity or judge him, but it felt nice to see it. 

Phichit then looked around briefly before adding in a hushed voice, “and that’s without mentioning this whole CW show-level drama of a case you told me about this morning at the beach.”

This time, Yuuri let out a genuine breathy laugh , both because Phichit looked a little manic in his attempts not to draw attention – which by the way, was a total and utter failure – and because of the accuracy of the statement. 

He sighed. “It really is like a CW show! Damn… what the hell is wrong with my life?”

“Oh well, at least you can’t get bored.”

Yuuri frowned, a thin-lip smile edging the corners of his mouth, as he eyed Phichit skeptically. 

“Yeah but I think I’d trade boredom over almost getting shot by mafia any day to be honest.”

Phichit shrugged. 

“From a certain point of view,” he said with an exaggerated diplomatic voice that sounded strangely like Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan, before breaking the pretense by grinning widely. 

“I’m happy that you’re taking it that way though… After yesterday, I wasn’t sure how you would react, and even this morning honestly I…” he trailed off, voice catching and Yuuri could see the struggle painted across his face. He reached out and settled his hand over Phichit’s who offered a smile as he looked up. “That’s backwards, I should be the one comforting you.”

Yuuri’s eyebrow shot up as he leveled a glance at his friend. 

“You did, you do. Constantly and repeatedly. You’re always there, supporting me.” 

He paused, allowing the words to sink in. 

“You came right away to the bathroom yesterday, and then this morning you came to get me and listened to what was going on with me, even if I kinda acted like a dick,” that elicited a chuckle from Phichit as he looked up behind his eyelashes and Yuuri smiled. 

He sat back in his chair, squeezing Phichit’s hand before letting to grab his cup. 

“I probably should tell you about what came over me after French though,” he started, on a vaguely more serious tone that made Phichit straighten up. His friend propped his elbow up and rested his chin on his hands, clearly ready to listen. 

Yuuri put his cup down slowly and explained how he’d remembered Anya’s strange behavior, and how he was suspecting she was playing a bigger part in all this than he had assumed originally. He retold about Georgi’s reactions, eliciting laughter from Phichit, and the subsequent conversation with Hans. 

“I agree, her actions are weird,” Phichit finally said after Yuuri had finished. Both the story and his croissant, to be specific, and he was itching for a second one. “You think she might have a role to play in the Sulliman case?” he asked, dubitative. 

Yuuri shrugged slowly, his expression as unsure as Phichit sounded. He sighed, trying to list what his arguments to assume so, were. 

“I mean… Maybe a ‘role’ is a big word you know, but there’s definitely something that’s not right here. She’s definitely after Viktor, but it’s the _why_ I can’t figure out.” Yuuri paused, eyes downcast for a second as he thought it over. 

He shook his head before meeting Phichit’s eyes again. 

“It’s just… Considering how massive the case is, and how much closer from home it is than I originally thought, I wouldn’t cross out the possibility of another connection, you know…”

“This shit is actually like a fucking CW show…”

Yuuri snorted. “It really is. But more seriously, I’m not sure how to sort it out. I was thinking just go ask my dad you know, but…”

Phichit nodded slowly, understanding where Yuuri was getting at. “Viktor.”

Yuuri hummed. “But at the same time, I don’t see why he would refuse me his help, especially considering the suspicious ties between Anya and the case. If it had been literally any other students involved in this, I wouldn’t even have thought twice about it… But this is just too much. What were the odds of the daughter of a dangerous mafia stealing the dog of the son of said dangerous mafia’s partner, partner who also happens to be a fucking dangerous mafia?”

“What were the odds of you actually managing to say that sentence?”

“Not funny.”

“Yes actually,” Phichit retorted leaning forward. “It _was_ funny. But yes I agree, it’s a little big.”

“‘Little’ is the understatement of the year.” 

“I think you should talk to your dad about it. I agree, I don’t think he’ll turn you down even if it’s somewhat related to Viktor.”

“It’s not _somewhat_ related to Viktor. It _is_ about him, and the fact that Anya suddenly hates his guts for some reason.”

Phichit made a sharp nod with his head, relenting on Yuuri’s point. “Right. But you get the idea.”

“Mmmh,” Yuuri simply said, reaching out for his almost empty cup now. He almost dropped it when Phichit suddenly perked up, reaching his hand out and tightening on Yuuri’s forearm. 

“Oops sorry,” Phichit quickly apologized upon receiving Yuuri’s most deadly glare full force. “Remember when Takeshi wanted you to join us earlier?”

Yuuri pursed his lips, eyes narrowed as he tried to remember. 

“Yeah you know, about the party tomorrow! Don’t make that face, you said you’d come! And you could talk to Viktor that way, I know Chris will be kicking his ass all the way to the party if he even thought about dodging!” he argued, scandalized over Yuuri’s deflated face. 

“Phich, honestly I don’t-“

“Come on! It’ll do you good!”

“Says who?”

Phichit straightened up, leveling his most serious gaze over at him, and Yuuri couldn’t help but deadpanning, one eyebrow arched in his direction. 

“Says I! Please Yuuri! Besides, you said you’d come when I told you about it!”

“I don’t remember saying such a thing! You’re the one who made that decision for me on your own!” 

“First, that’s not true, second you need to talk with Viktor about what happened.” Yuuri narrowed his eyes at that. 

“I already tried, and you already know what happened,” he threw back, ashamed at how bitter it sounded. 

“Yes, and I also know that all he asked for was time.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Are you seriously saying that a day is time enough?”

Phichit crossed his arms, nodding his head sideways with a petulant look on his face. 

“Maybe.” 

Yuuri shook his head, not convinced in the least. “I don’t want to repeat the fiasco of earlier.”

“And I think you shouldn’t wait too long– shut up, let me finish! Even if Viktor told you he couldn’t talk to you then, he’s the one who came to talk to you several times to try and smooths things over between the two of you even if you weren’t ready.” 

Yuuri arched an eyebrow at that, wordlessly asking ‘who says I wasn’t ready?’. 

“You weren’t even thinking along those lines when he tried to explain everything to you the first time, and then the second we both know how it ended,” he continued, unflappable although the reminder made Yuuri wince. “I think you should go to that party to change your mind from all the shit you’ve been taking this week, and it will give you the opportunity to clear things up with Viktor. You need this and we both know it.” 

Phichit didn’t budge for a moment, before his shoulders deflated, face almost imploring. “Pease?”

Yuuri was about to say protest more, but Phichit’s face could really rival the best Puss in Boots impression.

He rolled his eyes, sighing. 

“I’ll see,” Phichit’s smile crept back on his face so Yuuri thought good to add: “I’m not agreeing, I said, I will see! I’m seriously tired Phich, and I could use the time to sleep or something.”

“Yeah right, for you ‘something’ is code for working on a case,” Phichit accused softly. “And I really think you could use a break.”

Yuuri couldn’t fault the logic. He tended to use cases as his main distraction… Now though, and in light of everything he knew, he found that only thinking of the Sulliman case felt like falling down a rabbit hole. 

So even if he agreed that a break would be nice, he still wasn’t in the mood for a party, and even less with the perspective of meeting Viktor again. His reaction earlier had poured an ice-water bucket over Yuuri’s motivation to talk things out. Now he only felt like waiting it out, hoping it wouldn’t result in another disappointment. 

They left the café half an hour later, when Phichit realized he was going to run late if they stayed any longer. His mother had asked him to come home early to welcome his aunt and uncle visiting them; she would likely be stuck for her shift until after they were supposed to arrive, and she didn’t want to take the risk of leaving them to wait on the porch. 

Instead of going straight home after they parted, Yuuri decided to go by Minako’s studio, to try and dance off the emotions. Being better didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid everything could spin out of control again and being proactive wouldn’t hurt… He hated the slow comeback his anxiety was doing recently, spiking randomly and leaving him worn out to the core more frequently than he wished. His ballet teacher welcomed him warmly, and despite raising a questioning eyebrow at his insistence for a grueling pace, she didn’t question it and instead went on with the exercises, routines and stretches for several hours, until even Yuuri’s stamina couldn’t keep up. 

As he made his way to the door, she surprised both of them by engulfing him in a hug, squeezing him tight before letting him go with a nod to the door. He’d stared at her for several seconds before smiling and nodding in reply and made his exit. 

He needed the comfort of his room and he wouldn’t deny that sushi-rolling himself in his comforter sounded like heaven right about now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has more questions than answers... Don't worry, everything will be revealed in due time!
> 
> Side note 1: a little info for our non-francophone friends: BIG debate between pain au chocolat and chocolatine (it ended up being debated at the National Assembly, that's how big it is) 84% of French people use the word pain au chocolat, and the 16% using chocolatine are nearly exclusively living in the South-West of France.  
> Funnily enough, I only heard the term chocolatine when I was studying in Montreal where people would say chocolatine or chocolate croissant.  
> Bottom line is: use whichever you want, but know that the pastry is French, and most French people use pain of chocolat... :p 
> 
> Side note 2: if you've never tried a croissant aux amandes and end up in France (which admittedly seems the opposite of feasible considering current circumstances) (but maybe there's a French boulangerie not far?) and are not allergic to nuts tryyyyy it! It's seriously awesome!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is quite long - and a loooooot of stuff is being said. Bear with me please! <3
> 
> I hope you enjoy it anyway!

A soft knock on his door finished pulling Yuuri out of the limbo he’d been desperately trying to keep himself in for the last hour. He had fallen asleep straight after going home, exhausted by the day and his dancing session with Minako and went through the night like a log. 

Yuuri could feel a weight at the end of the bed, and a quick glance over taught him that Vicchan had managed to creep into the room during the night and had curled himself up on top of the comforter and was now fast asleep above one of his legs. His heart warmed at the blurry form, and he then turned his head back forward in attempt to check the time. He squinted over to the alarm clock, until realizing that without his glasses he definitely would not be able to make out whatever number it displayed. 

He groaned in his half-sleep state, clutching the pillow tighter and pressing his head onto it in denial, careful so as not to move his legs too much to avoid startling his dog. As another gentle knock came to his ears, the door finally creaked open. 

“Yuu-chan?” he heard his mother’s voice, and reluctantly turned his head so that half his face was now in view. The mattress dipped a little as she sat on the edge of the bed, and he gazed up at her as she rested her hand on his shoulder. 

“Tired, huh?” she asked, a small smile curling up her lips. 

He blinked hard and nodded voicelessly. It wasn’t a lie, far from it, but that wasn’t the whole truth either. He’d slept particularly well considering all the stormy thoughts clouding his mind constantly. 

The storm had finally quieted as he’d fallen asleep, and waking up meant letting go of that peace. There was no falling back asleep now though. 

His mother offered a sympathetic smile, lips pursing tight for a second as if she understood his struggle. 

“Your father needs to speak with you,” she finally announced, her hand squeezing his shoulder when he winced knowingly at the implications of that.

Yeah, definitely no falling back asleep. 

“He’s in the living room. It’s important,” she added just as she got up slowly, hands trailing off his shoulder. 

Of course it was. How could it not. He mumbled a half-hearted answer, but didn’t move right away. She sensed that he just needed a second, and she quietly stepped out of the room, leaving the door barely open. 

The whole thing had awakened the small poodle, who was now climbing up his body and nuzzled in Yuuri’s neck, instantaneously making him feel better. Yuuri released the pillow and turned to his side, bringing his legs up in a semi-fetus position to allow the dog to settle in the hollow formed with his body. Vicchan curled up again, flushed to Yuuri’s chest and Yuuri stroke the soft fur idly, sighing a little at how simple and nice this was, while an unpleasant foreboding was starting to creep up on him at the perspective of the talk with his dad. 

This was easily the worst he had felt over a case in his entire life. He had always proceeded with an analytical mind, assessing the elements he knew, and figuring out a way to get to know what he didn’t. It was an emotionless process. Or at least, when emotions were involved, it wasn’t his own. This time though, this time it was very much intertwined with them, and he found himself having a much harder time to deal with it than he’d wished. Predictable, but no less daunting.

Not even two weeks ago, his dad asking to talk to him would never have made his stomach churn unpleasantly in anticipation. Instead he would have jumped out of bed and probably drove to the office in his pajamas. Barefoot if it was a particularly interesting case. This may or may not have happened before. 

That was how much Yuuri loved that job. Solving seemingly unfathomable bags of knots was thrilling to a point that he had a hard time putting it into words more often than not. 

He paused the idle stroking, his mind reeling back over something he hadn’t considered. His dad wanted to talk to him. In the living room. 

He frowned, proceeding to remove the one arm still tucked under the pillow away from it, and patted Vicchan’s butt a few times when he found himself stuck under the comforter by the dog’s weight. After the small poodle stirred, yawned – making Yuuri mirror him almost instantaneously – and finally jumped down the bed, Yuuri shoved the comforter off and got up. 

Never before had his dad asked for them to talk about a case at home. 

Not caring for his PJs, he simply grabbed his glasses from the bed stand, rubbing the sleep off his eyes single handedly before pushing them up his nose. Preceded by the soft padding of Vicchan, he went down the hall, and then climbed down the stairs, passing a hand in his hair, as he felt another yawn fighting his way on his face. 

He stopped short at the edge of the living room, heart missing a beat in surprise, his breath hitching. He choked back the yawn, and was very aware of just how big his eyes probably had widened. He blinked once, twice…but no. The apparition didn’t disappear, and worse it was now smiling at him, a smile painfully familiar to one he’d grown accustomed to once more in the past week. His throat tightened somewhat, as he took in the full scene. 

There was his father, sitting in the armchair, while his mother was on the right end of the sofa. He forced himself not to be dwell over his shock of seeing her there. What truly had him dumbfounded was the figure sitting on the other end of the sofa, both legs pressed together and angled sideways, hands clasped together on her lap, silver hair hanging barely passing her shoulder and pale green eyes gleaming with an emotion Yuuri had trouble placing. 

“Hi Yuuri,” she said in a voice as soft as silk, a warm smile illuminating her face. “You’ve grown up so much.”

Yuuri instinctively took a step back, eyeing Elena Nikiforova with a frown that was deepening with each passing beat. His thoughts jumped to Viktor, to his face as he told Yuuri the pain her abandonment had caused. And then a stark pain ripped through him at remembering what shit show it had propelled them in. 

“What is this?” he blurted out without thinking, and he hated how pathetic he sounded. 

He didn’t miss the flash of sadness that passed through her eyes, her smile dimming, or how his mother’s lips pursed tightly and his father dropped his gaze. None of them replied, and Yuuri welcomed the few seconds to compose himself. He breathed out deeply, and stepped forward, eyes dead set on Elena’s face. He sat on the loveseat, pulling one leg in a pretzel, the other one to his chest and his arms circled around it. 

A thousand questions had popped in his mind from the moment the words left his mouth to now that he was sitting, eyes darting from one adult to the other. 

He wanted to know why she had left. Why she had allowed Viktor and Yuri to stay with a father she knew wasn’t a good man. How she had learned about her husband’s schemes, and what exactly was her role in this entire investigation. What had made her come back. Why his mother didn’t seem in the least troubled by seeing her long lost best friend suddenly appear back in town, and in her living room no less. 

His father had informed him that she was back in town, he had explained more or less why she had left, but it was nothing compared to the shock of seeing her sitting there as if this was their weekly Sunday tea time. He also had explained a lot regarding the case, and gave him more than tidbits of answers to all his questions, but Yuuri wanted to hear it from her. 

“I thought you were trying to lay low,” he finally voiced instead, a little defiantly. His father’s lips curled up as he looked up above his glasses, and the atmosphere visibly relaxed. 

Elena’s form perked up subtly, and she nodded.

“I was, and I am. I didn’t come here dressed like that,” she explained pointing at her casual clothing. Yuuri quirked an eyebrow, wondering exactly what she meant by that but didn’t comment. 

She sighed at the lack of reaction, and leaned back in the sofa. After she’d settled herself against the pillows, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked back at Yuuri, seemingly ready to explain.

“Your father told me a lot about the past week Yuuri, about how you helped with the case. And also about Viktor,” she added after a brief pause, her voice catching oh so subtly at saying his name. 

Her gaze fell to the ground, sighing shakily. Yuuri’s eyelids fluttered close upon hearing it too, and he bit his tongue to prevent his reaction to become noticeable. He wasn’t sure what his father had said, but he doubted that it had anything to do with their last fight. Most likely, he had explained their memorable and utter disaster of a fall-out back in seventh grade. 

She cleared her throat, and strained her eyes back up. Her voice wasn’t shaking anymore when she spoke again.

“You must have a lot of questions for me, and considering your reactions so far, you are not very happy with me.” 

Yuuri didn’t move, simply accepting her words, eyes nailed to her thoughtful face. 

There was the shadow of remorse and guilt painted on her ordinarily soft features that made her look older than he remembered. Which was obviously to be expected considering the five years gone by since the last time he saw her. All the same, it remained an odd sight for him to reconcile with his memories. 

When she looked back, the remorse was accompanied by something else: resigned acceptance. 

That made Yuuri falter a little. He blinked as he let a small exhale out between his barely opened lips. 

“Your father told you a lot about this whole situation already,” her voice was assured and even, but she glanced at his father, who nodded his ascent, not needing to look at her. 

Yuuri glanced between the two, before Elena continued. 

“So you know that everything that has been uncovered – or not uncovered, if we’re being honest – during the first investigation about my husband’s company, has now more than mere implications for what’s been labeled as the Sulliman Case,” she started soberly. “When the investigation was opened, Anatoly radically changed. He had never been what you would call level-headed and collected, but when he became agitated, restless more often than not, I assumed it was for the stress of having his company thoroughly checked out. I know I wouldn’t have felt reassured either. This, after all, didn’t seem like your typical fiscal check,” she told, with a wry smile that quickly turned her expression sour. 

She grew more serious as she kept on, eyes unwaveringly set on him, her brows knitted. 

“He never spoke in too much detail about his work life, but quickly after the beginning of the investigation he became paranoid and increasingly secretive. Were you to listen to him, asking about his day was synonymous of prying into confidential business matters. I started suspecting something wasn’t right, that he wasn’t being honest with what was really going on. It was worse if I inquired about the investigation. Whenever I would so much as begin a sentence that would hint my curiosity about it, he’d withdraw to his office, would leave the house altogether or we’d start arguing...loudly. This investigation started to infiltrate our everyday lives; we fought about everything and nothing… about nonsense. He was constantly on edge, and nothing was ever good enough.” 

Yuuri thought back to Viktor’s words. 

_“At the time, my father and her were fighting all the time, over things I didn’t understand back then. I don’t think I understand better now if I’m being honest. I’ve tried so much to forget those times, that I sort of annihilated my own memories. I think it was related to my dad’s work though.”_

“It went completely out of hand. To the point that, when our cleaning lady was out of town for a few weeks, I made the decision to take care of the cleaning of his office.”

She paused, her eyes briefly glazing over as if some memories were playing just for her. Yuuri was taken aback by how closely her son resembled her in that moment. Viktor had harbored this exact same expression and Yuuri hated the knot that twisted in his stomach at the sight. 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping to find something that could explain his behavior,” she finally continued. “Perhaps I should have felt ashamed for snooping, but that sentiment was crushed as soon as I came across documents that made me question what I had so far considered true about his company”. 

She paused, her words sinking in for the others in the room and her eyes lost focus for barely a moment. Yuuri could easily understand that. After his father had decided to come clean with what he’d been hiding from him, he had felt this hollow sense of horror that came from having your beliefs distorted to paint a dreadful picture. 

“There were various documents related to the investigation, including warrants to search the manufactures and the headquarters and the company accounts - and considering there were warnings of legal consequences in the bunch I am guessing Anatoly put up some resistance. He came back home early that day, and seeing me in his study, holding the investigation documents, he went berserk. And I must admit, it terrified me.”

It was the way she said it that made Yuuri drew in a sharp breath. Elena Nikiforova was no weak woman. She was proud, resilient, and resourceful. Seeing the vivid haunted glint in her eyes, coupled with such a straight face and flat voice was enough to put him off, and make him particularly uneasy. He only wanted to be mad at her for abandoning Viktor and Yuri, but seeing her that way, he had to reign in his judgement. 

“I got hit with a revelation there and then. It was his biggest fit of rage yet – it had Yura cry all evening from fright, and Vitya being knocked over accidently to the floor in his attempt to intervene. We opened the door too forcefully, while he was standing right behind and took it face first. It couldn’t go on like that, the kids were stuck in the middle of something that suddenly took massive proportions and I seemed to be powerless. His paranoia grew at an all-time high, but I couldn’t fathom not trying to understand about what was going on. I started to investigate on my own, as discreetly as I could and especially when he was out of town, but to no avail. He started locking his study after that time. I had so many questions, but the main one was ‘what could my husband be so afraid to divulge?’. So I decided to go to the source, and went for a visit at his headquarters. I had to bribe his secretary with flattery for her to let me in his official office. He had obviously not warned her to ban me from it - he was probably scared it would look suspicious. All I had to do was be my usual self, sparkle it all with flattery and I was in.”

Yuuri had to repress a smile at the way she said the last line. He was all too familiar with that way of proceedings and just for a second, her voice seemed to color itself back to her cheerful self. It didn’t last though, and the dangerous edge that it took next almost scared him. 

“The length he had gone to protect some of his files only made me more curious, a sick curiosity no doubt. I know my way around computers however and it didn’t take me long to pierce through his defenses.” 

Yuuri couldn’t help himself but be enthralled by what she was saying, his own curiosity already spiking, making his head hurt with apprehension.

“Nothing though,” she all but spat, staring into space. “There was nothing out of the ordinary, as if everything had been wiped out. I so much wanted to drop the matter, I wanted things to go back to the way they were and I had an excuse right there: nothing out of the ordinary to be found. Perhaps it was all a scam, and Anatoly had done nothing wrong.”

Yuuri kept his mouth shut. 

“I came home that day, to him on the phone and in the midst of a particularly heated conversation with someone I later came to learn to be Andrei Dvornikov. I manage to catch most of the conversation, and it shattered my idiotic hopes of his innocence right there and then. I took it upon myself to find one way or another in his study once more, sure that there must have been something there, if not in his official headquarters. I looked through everything in the office, paper files, drawers, library, and finally his computer. The protection was just as tight as at the HQ, but then again, I don’t think he suspected I knew so much about IT. Now that I look back on it, I don’t think he ever realized how many computer science classes I took back at University, or how fascinating I always found coding. Just because I ended up working in fashion journalism doesn’t mean this never mattered,” she added with a biting tone, and her eyes cast downwards. 

She allowed herself to take a deep breath after that, like she was bracing herself for what she would say next. 

“What I found sickened me to the highest point.” 

The words hung in the air between all of them, ringing in the painfully silent room. 

Yuuri swallowed, remembering what his father had told him regarding the non-public nature of the Nikiforov-Dvornikov business deals. 

She paused, staring at Yuuri to ensure he was following. Yuuri hadn’t moved, but he read on her face that she was well aware he’d drank every single one of her words and if not the details, had grasped the kind of horrors she might have come across. His father had told him enough to envision it, much to his displeasure. 

“I made my decision then. This was too much. I didn’t understand nearly half as much as I understand and know now, but what I had gathered so far was enough for me to realize that I had to do something. My excursion at his offices made me understand clear as day that nothing would come out of the official investigation. I made arrangements to disappear, before he was even back in the country.”

Yuuri felt himself stiffening at hearing plain and simple that she had wanted to ‘disappear’. As horrible as learning your husband meddled in this kind of shady transactions, how could she simply walk away without batting an eye at the kids she was leaving behind? In the hands of a psycho, no less!

She seemed to sense the change in atmosphere, and she lowered her head subtly, without breaking eye contact with him, impelling him not to voice his disagreement just yet. She waited a few seconds, letting the warning sink in and even if Yuuri’s lips itched from how much he wanted to talk back, he didn’t. 

“Before I continue, I’ll ask you this Yuuri.” He started a little at her tone, even but defiant all the same, and her eyes were burning the same fuel. “Do you truly hold me in such a low esteem that you’d assume me capable of turning my back on my children like so?”

Yuuri flinched, eyes bulging at the blunt question. 

_Of course not_. 

That was exactly the issue here. This was why he couldn’t wrap his mind around this whole shit show. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Viktor had told him one thing, his father another. And now Elena was putting him on the grill with a question he couldn’t seem to find a satisfying answer for. Or rather, a question he had no means to answer. He’d been so wrong, about so many things lately, that he was starting to doubt being a good judge of character altogether. 

So he said the only thing that rung true to himself. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, dropping his gaze as doubt flooded his mind. 

Her expression softened, a small smile curling her lips. 

“This was the single most difficult decision I ever had to make,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper and there was a pang in Yuuri’s chest at the emotion dancing in the green irises, so similar to Yuri’s. He couldn’t help but tone his defiance down somewhat. 

He believed her. 

There was nothing more to it. It didn’t lessen his frustration over the whole situation but it prompted him to make an effort to genuinely listen to her reasons. 

She must have noticed the change, because her shoulders relaxed. So subtly, Yuuri almost missed it, but given his eyes had barely left her since he arrived in the living room, he caught the slight movement right before she kept on. 

“I went over so many scenarios in my mind, from trying to uproot my children from this place to denouncing Anatoly straight to the police,” she continued. “I didn’t have any tangible proof for that though. Anatoly isn’t nearly as stupid as to write down mentions to mafia affiliations, brothels or drug trafficking, on any documents, subtly or otherwise. I had to dig pretty deeply for me to find anything related to the…” she winced, her jaw tight before she spat: “‘unofficial’ aspects of his business. What I came across was enough for _me_ to understand but it would hardly convince a court even if it had been admissible as evidence.”

Yuuri understood that well enough. Whatever was found without proper and officially emitted search warrant would never be admissible. He wasn’t exactly bound by that because his cases were mostly related to what individual people wanted to know – it would have been an entirely different matter if he had had to find evidence for official investigations. Elena did say there had been warrants for the production sites and headquarters, but none for their house and clearly she had breached her husband’s privacy by sneaking into a key locked office, and password protected computer. 

“I was never more scared than when I had to decide my next course of action: confronting him, forcing him to admit everything? I was never afraid to pick up fights, I knew how to hold my own whether with him or anyone else. But I was way in over my head there. This wasn’t just me. I couldn’t predict how he would react, what he would do… And after seeing his erratic behavior, his fits of anger and yelling matches in the prior weeks, I understood that this wasn’t the man I used to know and married. I didn’t want to risk it, couldn’t risk it, for the sake of my children.”

Yuuri listened intently, easily understanding the dilemma in which she had found herself in now that he was hearing it explicitly laid out for him. 

“He had never shown any violence towards either one our children. He may have been stern on many levels, but he’d never acted out of line with them. Ever. But all my certitudes instantaneously crumbled after everything I had come to know,” she said, shaking her head as if she still couldn’t believe it. 

Yuuri believed she couldn’t. He strongly doubted such an independent and strong woman would ever choose to marry a pimp, dealer, mafia man like Anatoly… He’d never known Anatoly much more than as the tough man who happened to be his best friend’s father. And the sole image he had recently was that of a maniac who’d openly and indubitably threatened him in presence of his own dad. The shock of discovering how wrong her marriage had been must have been hell to live. 

Two decades of lies instantaneously destroyed... He really didn’t want to try and imagine how hard it must have been for your entire conjugal life, heck your entire life being shattered by none other than the person you should have been able to trust the most. 

Yuuri’s mind did a double take, and he blinked. He didn’t have to try and imagine. He had had a glimpse of just how painful such discovery was. And he at least had the consolation that it was in most part not Viktor’s fault, and having nothing to do with dealings as serious as those Anatoly meddled with. 

“All my attempts to find the best solution came to no avail… I just couldn’t come to a sensible conclusion, whenever I went down the path of one scenario, all sorts of disasters would immerse themselves in my conjectures and I…” she trailed off, visibly clenching her jaw and wincing. “I just didn’t want to leave anything to chance. I couldn’t fathom the possibility of having anything happening to Viktor and Yuri. Knowing what I had discovered then, I couldn’t just take them and leave: he would have found us, and God knows what he would have done then. I couldn’t go to the police because I didn’t have proof; and I certainly couldn’t stay there, confront him and take the risk of having them hurt in the debacle.”

She cast her eyes down, and stayed silent for a few moments. No one in the room uttered a single word and Yuuri felt as if the air had turned thick with the building-up tension. He threw a glance at his mother, and blinked at the complete understanding he could read on her features, as she was watching Elena with her brows knitted together in empathy and concern. 

Looking over by his father, Yuuri noticed he hadn’t budged since the beginning of the conversation. His elbows were still propped on his knees, and his hands were still clasped together while his head was hung down. Yuuri did notice how much stiffer his posture was, and how tightly he was gripping his hands together. 

He forced his eyes back on Elena, not entirely able to comprehend how sensitive this topic was for the present adults. He could rationally understand, but subtleties of living such predicament as a parent were lost to him. 

“So I decided to leave. It was the only way I could see not to put them in the middle of this further than they already were, and instead make myself the target. I picked up a fight about some random issue that night. I don’t even remember what it was about,” she admitted, not meeting his eyes. “I didn’t expect it to be so violent; he completely lost it, I completely lost it, and I will never be able to get Yurotchka’s cries or Vitya’s vain attempts to calm him down out of my mind ever again.” 

Yuuri flinched, not exactly having expected hearing her retell what Viktor had confided in him. 

“I couldn’t let myself look back. I left the house the next day, when they were all out of the house. The second I crossed the threshold I knew I couldn’t go back. I needed to prove his guilt if I wanted my children back, away from this madness. The price to pay was higher than I ever expected. I lived in constant fear for the last five years, not for me but for them, not knowing how either of them were. I rested all my hopes on that Anatoly had never hurt them in the past, that he wouldn’t start now. But I didn’t know him anymore…and after everything that happened doubt had become my most prominent companion.”

Yuuri’s throat clenched painfully at hearing that. Sure Anatoly had never hit them… Viktor had told him as much. But perhaps what he did could be deemed so much worse. He destroyed Viktor’s trust in his own mother, in Yuuri, and in himself. Letting him believe that he was worthless and guilty of having their mother turn her back on her entire family. 

Elena turned to his mother, a small smile touching her lips. It was sad, but full of gratitude. 

“I would never have been able to live those last five years without Hiroko.”

Yuuri’s mind blanked and he took him long seconds to close his now agape mouth. 

_What in the bloody hell_

He shook his head, and stared between the two women, a more than puzzled expression twisting his face. 

“What...mom you _knew_?” he exclaimed breathily, disbelieving and betrayal sweeping over him. If today was the “proving how clueless Yuuri really had been about this whole thing”, then it was surely doing wonderfully. 

His mother turned to him, her expression disconcertingly close to Elena’s and simply looked at him with this sad, resigned acceptance. As if she couldn’t bring herself to regret what she had done, but sorry it had brought about hurt. 

Her silence was more vocal than words, and he gasped the air out, turning to his father.

“Did _you_ know she was in on this?”

His father had lifted his head up by now, and he sighed deeply, looking more defeated than Yuuri had ever seen him. 

And that was saying something. 

“I didn’t until today, no,” he admitted. He didn’t sound angry about that particular fact somehow. More… a resigned sort of understanding. 

Learning that his dad hadn’t had a clue about what had been happening made Yuuri feel somewhat better, but not enough for him to drop the topic. 

“But wait, during all this time you knew?” 

If he needed to hear it one more time to actually settle the new information in his mind, he’d hear it one more time. 

This time Hiroko nodded slowly, and Yuuri’s eyes wandered around as the realization settled in, and he dropped his entire weight back on the back of the loveseat. No one said anything for a few minutes, as if they all needed to come to terms with the truth that was now in plain sight. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Yuuri finally breathed out. A few decibels louder and he knew his voice would carry an angry edge that he really didn’t want to transfer over. His expression must have betrayed him however because his mother’s expression grew pinched as she cocked her head to the side looking apologetically at him. 

Yes he was angry. This was the third time he felt betrayed by someone close in barely a week, whether it was justified or not didn’t matter. His dad, Viktor and now his own mother. 

All rationality had flown out the window, and he was just plain mad. What was wrong with them all? And the fact that his mother was now not saying anything just fed into his anger. 

“Why didn’t you say anything, mom?” he repeated, louder this time, not caring anymore whether he sounded upset or not. Seemed like they’d all caught on anyway. “You could have helped dad way more if you’d said something! You can’t possibly tell me you never noticed how worn out he was feeling over this case! For years, you knew and didn’t say anything!”

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Elena interrupted before he could go on with his rant. His head snapped at her, eyes sharp as steel.

She didn’t flinch. 

“I demanded of Hiroko that she not utter a word about this to anyone. She is the only person I told what I was plotting against Anatoly, and I was far too scared of the repercussions anyone knowing could have had on Viktor and Yuri. Your father and Sheriff Leroy needed to be the one solving this affair. I couldn’t risk having Anatoly or the mafia, know I was involved.” 

Her expression grew gentler as she continued, eyes vaguely losing focus. “Thanks to her I had news of my boys without risking anything… That made the last years somewhat bearable; that and knowing your father was progressing in the-”

“Bearable?!” Yuuri exploded. “Bearable, is that really the word you want to use?”

She snapped her gaze back up, blinking at the intensity of Yuuri’s outburst. In fact, they were all reduced to silence due to the shock of him straight up losing it. 

“Do you have any fucking clue of how messed up your departure left them?”

She frowned, her head tilting unconsciously to the side as she studied him in confusion. 

“How would you know that, I thought…” she turned to throw a glance between Hiroko and Toshiya, then back at him. “I thought you boys were not on good terms anymore, it was what made Hiroko’s job to give me news so much harder, I didn’t think-”

“And who’s fault is that hah?” Yuuri snapped, tone acidic. 

After a few seconds she seemed to catch on and her eyes grew wide at the realization. 

“Anatoly may never have hurt them _physically_ but he did have a field day making Viktor believe your leaving, Yura being a mess and the whole investigation ongoing, his fault. For weeks, he blamed it all on him, using me as a tool to destroy his own beliefs and trust.”

He vaguely noticed how his parents were drinking his words, unaware as they were of this part of the story until now. How could they have known, since himself had only learnt it less than 48h earlier. He couldn't dwell on their reaction however, too caught up in the bubbling magma of emotions taking all of his focus. 

“The reason why we weren’t on good terms anymore, is because _he_ did his very best to destroy Viktor because _you_ left. He kept telling him that he was an imbecile for letting me close, for being friends with me, because of course I was working with my father to gather intel on his father’s business. He exploited his pain as an outlet for his own resentment and rage, to make him think that he had somewhat a part in what had happened. As if somehow it was his own damn fault if Yura kept crying himself to sleep, his fault if the police didn’t give up on investigating his father, his fault for everything!” 

He paused, breathing hard and only then did he realize that a few tears had escaped once more. Anger fueled by pain. 

He furiously rubbed his eyes, painfully swallowing before looking back up at her with all the defiance he could muster. 

“Don’t think you were the only bearer of that price you said you had to pay to get your sons away from him. _They_ suffered most of all, and that destroyed me in the process,” he confessed, voice assured despite how his body shook with emotions. “It makes me sick only to think about it. You have no idea how damaged Viktor is over this whole story. I only heard about this two days ago, but I’ll never be able to forget how torn up he was when he told me. He was _crushed_ ,” he said with emphasis. “You better find a way to make that up to him. And Yuri. They’ll deserve more than an apology.”

He knew he was being oblivious to her reasons as to why she had been doing it… He knew he wasn’t being entirely fair to her – or at all – but he really couldn't care less. He needed her to understand… To understand how deeply this had cut all of them. 

If the horror-struck expression plastered on her face was anything to go by, Yuuri could rest assured he’d hit the mark. He averted his eyes from her again, choosing to rest his gaze on his hands. He heard shuffling around, and he barely had the time to lift his head up for he was engulfed in the biggest bear hug he’d received in a long time. 

He stiffened for a brief second, the urge of pushing his mother away dying out as fast as it had overcome him. As he relaxed, she tightened her embrace, as if to ensure he wouldn’t disappear. He could feel the weight of the last years in her arms, the sorrow, pain and drag that keeping such a huge secret had been for her, unable as she was to mention it to anyone but the person who had begged her to protect it. He could feel the apology for involving him in this mess, he could feel the tension climaxing and melting away at the same time – from having the secret finally out, but fearing the consequences of its revelation. 

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, lips curled down at the painful lump in his throat, and tentatively circled his arms around his mother’s middle and buried his head in the crux of her shoulder. He allowed himself the time to compose himself, breathing in and out deeply but softly, the few tears that had escaped earlier dying out. 

He pressed his forehead on his mother’s shoulder, signaling her he was ready to part and she slowly released her embrace, albeit reluctantly. 

Her hands hovered over his shoulder and arm, and Yuuri eventually lifted his head to meet her eyes. 

She hadn’t been crying, but her eyes were shining with unshed tears. As he turned a quick glance to Elena, and his father, their shocked expression told him that they truly never once imagined that to be the reason why Viktor and he had drifted apart. 

How could they…? Only two days ago he hadn’t known either... Perhaps they had suspected it was linked to Elena leaving, and Viktor being so hurt he had been unable to cope, and none of his parents had thought it wise to press an issue which took root in a case neither of them knew about nor understood. 

“I’m so sorry Yuuri.”

Yuuri snapped his eyes back on the pain-struck face of Elena, contorted into an expression halfway between horror and despair. 

She had whispered the words, breathing them out more than said them, and he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of regret for being the cause of this. There was no use in guilt-tripping her now. She had made a choice and assumed it, fully committed to see her husband fall from the pedestal he thought himself on, and take back her children. He could admire that, even if he deeply resented the consequences of said choice on his own life, and on Viktor and Yuri’s. 

“I had no idea this would happen,” she continued, voice not much louder. She looked as if she was berating herself for being naive, for thinking she should have known something like that could and would happen. 

Yuuri took in a sharp breath, shaking his head, trying to let her know she shouldn’t speak more of it. He’d made his point. He had wanted her to understand the full extent of collateral damage of her choice, that she hadn’t been the only one having to suffer the consequences of a situation the biggest victims had no part in creating. He didn’t enjoy making her feel guilty over it, but he didn’t regret telling her anyway. Maybe it was selfish of him, but it felt like perhaps he had the right to be. 

“Nothing we can change now,” he finally said, making sure his voice was clear and unwavering. He had at least that small satisfaction. “My dad said you were back in town because you were close to having enough ground to convict your husband.”

She looked ready to argue or apologize more, but she seemed to realize Yuuri’s need for answers. Something to hold on to, that somehow would make everything ok. And if not ok, at least worth it, that it hadn’t been for naught. 

She swallowed, and nodded slowly. 

“You know that the Sulliman case was officially open a few years ago, then closed off by the Sheriff’s department before your father and the sheriff personally inherited it. What was known by then was a nonsensical patchwork of facts – and it tended to be relegated as the business of usual of the city with all its random acts of violence, abductions and endemic fights against drugs manufacturers.” Yuuri nodded, for it was what his father had explained the first time. “I was the only one who knew that Anatoly was tied to it all – which is why I personally started dropping hints. What I was missing – what _we_ were missing,” she corrected, throwing a glance to his dad, “were tangible proofs that connected Anatoly with a case deemed hopeless – with this “business as usual”.

Yuuri was back in focus mode. His stomach had not fully settled over the bundle of nerves that tied it into knots, but it wasn’t bothering as much as earlier, allowing him to focus on the matter at hand fully. 

“Do you remember what I had told you about this cluster of mafia?” his father immediately asked after Elena finished her sentence. They all turned to his dad, who had finally changed position, now leaning back in his armchair with his legs crossed.

Yuuri nodded silently. “It was the only logical explanation at the time. Nothing else was even remotely plausible. It’s only after we managed to get confession from low-end members of a that low-end gang group I mentioned that pieces of evidence started to turn up. Pieces of evidence that could be tied together, not just random facts adding up. Until Elena started meddling that is,” he added with a strained but genuine smile. 

“Leaving town opened up much more opportunities to investigate than I could hope for,” Elena intervened. “I knew Anatoly’s family had shady connections back in Russia. I doubt you know this Yuuri, but Anatoly immigrated here when he was about twenty years old, cutting bridges with his family altogether. Or so he told me. I was born and raised here, and anything related to Russia or mafia dealings were too far away from me to comprehend. He never acted like he ever had ties with the mafia, and I never questioned it. Turns out, instead of emigrated out of Russia to put distance with his family, it was simply to branch their business out and implement it in the US.”

Yuuri swallowed, desperately trying to keep up with all the new information, his head swirling with bouts of stories he had to tie together with what he already knew. It started to make more sense, and at the same time it was too much. 

“I didn’t linger here after I left the house, and went directly to the only place I knew I could find information on this whole matter. St Petersburg. That’s where Anatoly was from, and where I knew I would most likely find the remaining members of his family. For all I knew, everything he had told me about them might have been a lie, and I wasn’t sure how safe it would be for me to just waltz in the snake’s den without some kind of precautions. My hair was cropped short – shorter than they are now anyway – and dyed black, I would wear colored lenses - which were conspicuous enough considering my natural light eyes – along with glasses. I couldn’t have looked more different than I do now.”

Without really meaning to, Yuuri now understood what she had meant earlier about not wandering around the city without a disguise. That made him wonder why she’d been so reckless as to leave the offices of the most prominent PI in the city as plainly disguised as she had the day before. It wasn’t like her appearance was particularly common. He didn’t think of commenting though, not that he would have had the time since she already went on with her story. 

“If I won’t be telling you what exactly I found on Anatoly’s personal computer,” she gave him a pointed look that clearly meant she already knew he had some sort of understanding of the kind of information she had come across, “I can say that I got the proof that he had still ties with familial business back home. In his family, ‘business’ only meant one thing, mob, and I should have known better than to believe that one can ever become as powerful and wealthy after breaking ties with the mafia. But that’s beside the point. 

“With some digging, I managed to trace back his ‘senile’ grandmother. She was in a mental asylum in the city’s suburbs – all I knew before meeting her was that she had dementia. Perhaps I should have guessed by then that it was one more of his lies to keep me away from the truth, because as it turned out, she wasn’t mental at all and she had this twinkle in her eyes that told me right away that she knew far more than anyone around her would have ever thought. She faked the dementia part for a while before I managed to break through to her, and a long time after that for her to trust me enough to confide in me with secrets that might have ended her. 

“She was the one that provided me with the means to send hints to your father after a while. You see, she knew too much when she decided to get out of the family business. She married into this and came a time she had enough. She faked declining mental health, and they ended up having to put her in the asylum, managing to get official diagnosis of Alzheimer and dementia. Just like that, she wasn’t a liability anymore. I think she sympathized with my situation,” Elena mused, her eyes downcast. “She was the one thanks to which I gained access to much of the information I sneaked out of there… Or at least, she set me on the path to discover the truth. It was her contacts that allowed me to jump from one source to another, and I got access to low end quarters back in Russia, pertaining to my husband; there, I made my way in the outer circles, still in disguise. I knew I had to keep myself out of the inner circles or else I would be in the exact same dilemma as I was before leaving Hasetsu. I would have been unable to get out of their web, and my sons would be no better for it. 

“I got access to various company accounts. It took me a long time to gain access for obvious reasons. They didn’t just trust me out of the blue, and I needed time to make them feel the need for my capabilities in computer science. That, and Anatoly’s dealings weren’t labelled as his in their registries. It would be the epitome of idiotic to have official American industries associated with mafia in Russia. The company was registered under another name, and it was a good thing I was the one doing the digging.” 

She paused, but seeing Yuuri’s frown, she elaborated, leaning a little forward, her hands clasped together on her knees. 

“That name isn’t known officially; it was a nickname that a cousin of his had for him, and the one he used to speak of his company’s prototype when I met him. He quickly changed it, even before he thought of the final project, and it was the end of the matter. To all intents and purposes though, that’s what led me to have my proof of linkages: why would a private American company have copies of its finances in mafia quarters in Russia? Not that anyone would have known at first glance and again, I don’t think Anatoly ever fathomed I would end up spying on him. In any case, investigating my husband’s account led me to find another interesting bits of information: records of a decade long transactions that suddenly stopped barely a few days after I left, registered under the name Bogdan,” she added knowingly.

“That’s one tip you gave my father,” Yuuri said, not immediately looking at her as he was trying to work out a timeline in his head. She nodded when he did though and shifted her position to cross her ankles, and reclining back on the sofa. 

“I didn’t realize right away they were Dvornikov’s, although maybe I should have. I didn’t know Anatoly was affiliated with the mafia, but their partnership was the most famous in California; the probability for these accounts not to be his was close to naught. What I did find out quickly however, were the many distortions in the finances in Anatoly’s accounts. There were very similar to the financial inconsistencies that sparked the original Nikiforov investigation, and what caught my attention was the scissors effect with that Bogdan’s results. I still wasn’t sure who those accounts pertained to, but what was absolutely certain was the evidence of financial manipulation in both revenues.”

Something in her retelling of the events made Yuuri do a double take. “Financial manipulation?” he interrupted, brows drawn together. 

Elena paused, her mouth open as she had been about to continue her explanations, and she looked vaguely confused as to why that in particular had drawn his attention. 

“Does that surprise you?” she asked raising one eyebrow. When he merely stared back without answering she continued: “That’s one of the reasons why he and Dvornikov grew apart. Anatoly infiltrated pretty deep in the professional dealings, and went too far when he-

“But I thought they drifted because of the investigation…” he protested faintly and starting to realize that this couldn’t be it. His father had pointed it out, breaking professional contact at the precise moment an investigation opens would look suspicious. Then again, Dvornikov would have ended up having his assets investigated too if he’d stayed… Doomed if you do, doomed if you don’t … 

“That wasn’t the only reason,” Elena said, having noticed he’d started to understand by himself. “Before I tell you more about that let me finish this; I discovered the identity behind the Bogdan’s account by talking to new members of the family mob. See, they’re eager to brag their new status, and don’t think about the words tumbling out of their mouths, especially in the company of vodka,” she said with a sardonic smile that sent chills down Yuuri’s spine imagining Viktor and Yuri’s mother in the middle of mafia drunkards. 

“As soon as I learned about Dvornikov, I understood why Anatoly had gotten so frantic. It wasn’t just the investigation, he could cover that up against the local authorities without much issue I believe – hence the difficulty of getting him caught. What had him worried were that Dvornikov would discover the money manipulations and laundering of his revenue shares in their last dealings. Which was enough to amount to several billions.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened at the amount. Sure, in retrospect, talking billions in a Mafia world shouldn’t have surprised him this much… but it was such an unfathomable amount to him that it still made him gulp uneasily. 

"To get back to the cause of the drift, consider this: the companies had mutually beneficial dealings both tied to the bigger compounds back in Russia. It’s a reasonable assumption that the investigation would have potentially disclosed some of their more...shady transactions to the authorities in the US,” she said with a grimace. 

“Dvornikov had initially wanted to exert caution in the proceedings, getting rid of the suspicions of the authorities, show them what they wanted while Dvornikov and my husband’s teams worked on disguising the sensitive transactions. I’m sure you see the problem for Anatoly here. He couldn’t risk Dvornikov going too close into the financials. They fought over it a lot, as the phone conversation I walked in on had already proven, and eventually – and unsurprisingly I must add–, Dvornikov discovered the truth. He ended up under heavy scrutiny back home: having lost billions to a partner of several decades was enough to put him in a tight spot as you can imagine. It’s ironic now that I think about it, that it was the very investigation Dvornikov tried to free his partner of and protect from, that ended up showing him _how_ much of a fool he was being made of,” she added with a humorless chuckle. 

Yuuri couldn’t help the fleeting squeeze of his eyebrows at her expression. It had clouded and the smile had effectively frozen in a grimace. She wasn’t saying everything, and he had a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“What do you mean?” because no matter how much he turned it in his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to accept that this was solely about money, no matter how deeply businessmen loved their money. 

She met his gaze, a stoic mask on her face that had his mouth dry. 

“Let’s just say that this gamble of Anatoly’s left Dvornikov in a situation he hadn’t readied himself to deal with.” 

Could she be any more cryptic? He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and said as much, just as she opened her mouth once more. 

“It got repercussions on his family life, most notably his wife who didn’t handle the added scrutiny from the mafia into their lives and went as far as trying to…” she trailed off, face twisted in an expression of anguish.

Yuuri knew better than to press insensitively and resorted to wait, looking between her and his mother, before glancing at his father, silently seeking support. After a few quiet moments where it became clear Elena wasn’t going to finish her sentence, it surprised Yuuri to no end to hear his mother’s voice, ordinarily warm and bubbly, utter in a cold and emotionless monotone: “She tried to kill herself by jumping in Hasetsu River with her car. She has been in a coma ever since.”

A stone drop in Yuuri’s stomach and he stared at his mother, horrified. “I thought that was an accident…”

His mother shook her head darkly, and Elena laughed a bitter, cold breath. 

This was so much bigger than he could have ever fathom… This investigation had destroyed more lives than he’d ever thought. First Viktor’s family was torn apart, his mother leaving and his father losing his mind; then their friendship left in shambles, their falling out plaguing them to this day; and then Mrs Dvornikov, who was now in a coma and had been for the last years, without hope to wake up anytime soon– 

Yuuri stiffened, realization dawning on him as a cold sweat snaked its way down his spine. He swallowed with difficulty, but hopefully conspicuously enough. He had at least the consolation that they would attribute his shock to the wave of revelation slowly drowning him, if they did happen to notice. 

This was his answer regarding Anya’s behavior… 

He could only speculate as to what prompted her to actively seek some sort of revenge – only now, that was. Perhaps she had been as clueless as he had been regarding to the truth behind her mother’s condition… The very recent renewal of contacts between Nikiforov and Dvornikov might also be in cause. 

Whatever it was he couldn’t dwell on the matter presently, and he put an end to his thoughts to try and bring them all back to why they were gathered here in the first place. He cleared his throat to bring Elena’s attention back to him. 

“So you managed to connect Anatoly to Mr Dvornikov…” he prompted. 

Elena took a moment to compose herself, eyelids fluttering furiously for barely a second, and she shook her head.

“Yes and eventually I managed to track down other partners including the Triade,” Yuuri blinked at that, although he wasn’t surprised, “along with the Senaloa Cartel and more low-end groups back here in Hasetsu. The network is worldwide and the official business here is the official facade of the drug traffickers going on between one group or the other, and the human trafficking linked to it. Having access to both original accounts of that network enabled me to cross-check transactions, link them to some of what we thought to be inconsequential occurrence back here, and finally make the network visible. So you see, your father’s initial assumption wasn’t that far off. What was missing was what tied it all; Dvornikov and my husband.” 

They all sat quietly for a moment, letting her words sink in. It was Yuuri who broke the silence again, trying desperately to hang on to the various questions he still had – all those details that weren’t making sense. 

“I’m confused though,” he started without hesitation. “I’m guessing Dvornikov must know what really transpired with his wife, I mean what’s the real reason she jumped. Right?” He continued when he received a silent nod of assent. “Then why in the world is he forgiving Anatoly? Why would he look beyond something that destroyed his family and renew their deal?”

The subtle twitch of her lips made him narrow his eyes, sensing he had put the finger on something quite consequential. 

She didn’t answer right away however, taking her time to appraise him and he had a hard time not shifting on his seat under her scrutiny. 

“Your father told you I believe, why I came back to Hasetsu,” she announced with an air of finality. Yuuri’s breath didn’t catch, and his heart kept a steady beating, but he distinctively felt a jolt of curiosity in the pit of his stomach. She seemed to notice because the look in her eyes softened. 

“What I needed was tangible proofs, something reliable that would be admissible in court. The telltale of low-end mafia was unlikely to be convincing enough, especially if Anatoly could bribe his way out of it. I came back because I finally found something that will enable us to put an end to this charade.

“Yes, Dvornikov knew about the real circumstances of his wife’s suicide attempt, and he also knew about the manipulations. Don’t forget though, that he’s not alone in this and neither is Anatoly. They are both accountable to larger entities back in Russia. Discovering the revenue shares had been tampered with, and capital relocated was what drove the official businesses here apart, but it didn’t end there. For the first time in decades, they were tensions surging between the two families in Russia; and Dvornikov’s didn’t exactly take lightly to be robed. Despite all my research into the home-base accounts to which Anatoly’s are linked, it was still tightly held under wraps and presenting that as evidence could easily be rejected if the mafia groups meddled in it. I saw a flaw in the all-time high tensions between the families, and I took advantage of it.” 

Yuuri was dead silent, taking all her words in and finding himself utterly unable to do much more than blink as he listened with rapt attention, but he was not prepared for the serious tone nor the next words that came out of her mouth. 

“I went to the head of the Dvornikov family with an interesting enough proposal that he didn’t kill me on the spot.”

Yuuri could swear he felt his face pale at the haunted but unyielding look that glimmered in her eyes, resolve unflinching. The only thought that came to Yuuri’s mind was that she could have died. The full realization took him by surprise but with the force of a tidal wave, like nothing she’d said before had. 

“The resentment and grudge they held against the Nikiforov patriarch for allowing Anatoly to get off the hook as easily as he did, and against Anatoly himself for his laundering was enough of a fuel for me to work with. I mostly said the truth: that I had been investigation for years in Russia, and that I had a team back in the US working on trails to catch my husband. I think they admired my grit enough that they decided to hear me out. The idea was to lead Dvornikov back in official partnership with Anatoly, while the Dvornikov family worked on their end with backing the Nikiforovs into a position where they wouldn’t be able to back up Anatoly. We’ve been preparing this for about a year or so, and it was particularly hard to keep contact with the base here as the Dvornikovs wanted to ensure no information was leaked that could threatened the operation.”

Yuuri stared, gobsmacked and speechless. A brief look in his parents’ directions told him they already knew all about this, because they didn’t look at all like he felt. His mother had her jaw clenched, but it was the only outward sign of reaction he could notice. His father seemed somewhat less composed, but didn’t look at all like someone who was discovering the information. Yuuri thinned his lips, reining his attention to be pulled back to the woman sitting in front of him. 

“The Dvornikovs had moles spread through Nikiforovs headquarters, some that I couldn’t even dream of accessing. It took a long time to organize everything, and even longer for the plan to get started. We discovered then, that the support Anatoly seems to think he had, is much more fragile than we all anticipated. See, even if the Nikiforovs did have his back during the backlash of discovering the laundering, they had to deal with the consequences of losing such a prominent partner as the Dvornikov and they weren’t particularly happy about it. The Dvornikovs gathered much more intelligence that I could ever have alone, tracing back a historic of offences that date back at least from several years before the original investigation started.” 

A sharp cough made Elena pause and Yuuri turn his head towards his father, whose face was scrunched up in silent reprobation. Yuuri didn’t have the time to ponder what exactly was the matter because Elena sighed heavily, offering an equally silent apology, with a pleading but adamant gleam in her eyes. 

The same one she had harbored earlier, Yuuri noted. The one that told him that despite the harshness and the pain her choices brought, she still would have done it the same way because she didn’t have any other choice if she wanted to protect her children in her endeavor to take them back. 

“You know why I couldn’t provide you with more hints than those I sent you, Toshiya,” she explained in a patient voice. Clearly they had had that conversation before. “There was too much at stake – too much for me to risk it.”

Yuuri watched between the two, sparing one glance at his mother for good measure. She hadn’t moved, face neutral and eyes unreadable, and Yuuri thought that he’d never seen his mother this imperturbable in his entire life. It was vaguely scary if he was being honest. 

His father’s shoulder slumped faintly and he let out a breathy sigh. Not in defeat, but in grudging acceptance. Elena’s face softened, and the hint of a smile ghosted her lips for barely a moment before refocusing her intense green eyes on Yuuri. 

“The evidence we’ve gathered trace back the different laundering account Anatoly was able to hide, along with detailed research on the different warehouses, factories and transportation, including addresses, purchases dates, camera footage and the like. We also have names of supporting witnesses – very few in Russia, more so here in Hasetsu. Anatoly’s dealings went all the way here as you know,” her eyes darted to his father at that and Yuuri recalled the conversation they had had the previous week. It seems that his father had known at least that, even if at the time it wasn’t explicitly labeled as “Anatoly Nikiforov’s business mafia partners”, he mused wryly eyes focused on the edge of the sofa as he thought about it. 

His brief retreat to the privacy of his own mind was enough to make him lift his head up sharply when he heard Elena speak again. He hadn’t even realized she’d paused once more. He was surprised, borderline shocked to see how much her eyes had brightened up, and how she seemed to be barely able to contain the smile that was threatening to claim her lips. 

Considering what she had just explained and her next words, he considered that perhaps he shouldn't been taken aback as such. 

“Now we have enough to convict him. That’s why I came home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY IF SOME PARTS ARE CONFUSING! :'(  
> It took me a really long time working on that chapter because of how complicated I made this investigation... Seriously, I don't understand why I complicated my life so much and created this thing... At least that chapter had a few revelations and now you know about Elena's involvement!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only realized yesterday at 1am that oh yeah Thanksgiving was today/yesterday depending the way you look at it. We don't celebrate it here, so it totally slipped off my mind... I hope everyone who celebrates it could enjoy it despite the circumstances! 
> 
> After a quick check, if I stick to the regular MWF schedule, it'll bring me to the 25th of December to post the last chapter; I might not really have that much time the week before Christmas, so I might push the posting forward a little... (not sure that last bit in the sentence is English. Apologies for that, hopefully you see what I mean.)
> 
> Anyway - not much action yet in there BUT it's comiiing  
> Enjoy!

For a while, no one said anything. 

Yuuri was processing. Or trying to, and despite being hyperaware that all the present adults were watching him as if he would spontaneously combust from the assault of information, his mind had somehow taken to narrow down his focus to the one thing he desperately did not want to think about. 

It felt like Viktor’s devastated expression was on a loop, playing before his eyes, haunting him, taunting him, nagging him. Clenching his jaw briefly, he released a long breath. The small but nastily painful lump in his throat was still there, and his insides still reduced to a bag of knots over the whole ordeal, but at least now he had an explanation. It didn’t really make him feel less helpless though… 

“You know you’re gonna have a lot of damage control to do when you go back out there.”

He kept his eyes nailed to the edge of the carpet as he said that. He wasn’t sure why. 

As much as he didn’t look at her, he didn’t miss the way she flinched and he finally lifted his gaze up to meet her eyes. Whether it was because of what he had said or that he said something at all, he wasn’t sure. He’d broken the eerie silence that had been engulfing the room for a good ten minutes and Yuuri didn’t have to look at his parents to know both had looked up just as Elena had. 

She stared right back into his eyes for a second, seemingly taking his words in and he caught the flick of an emotion he’d seen in Yuri’s eyes often: regretful acceptance. 

Her lips stretched in a thin smile for barely a moment. Yuuri had heard it from her mouth earlier, but it was a drastically different thing to witness it first hand: the toll of the price she knew she had paid for her choice, the one she still had to pay, etched onto that seemingly stoic face. 

“Viktor tried to rationalize your leaving,” he heard himself say without premeditation. Her gaze lit up in confusion, but her face remained otherwise blank. 

Yuuri exhaled before continuing. “He tried explaining why he came to me for help in finding Makkachin after she disappeared. I’m sure dad mentioned this,” he added, having to actually fight down the urge to lace his tone with bitterness. He didn’t mean to be snappish but his nerves were beyond raw and he was feeling edgy at best. 

The ounce of sheepishness flashing on his father’s face surprised him, but he didn’t dwell on it nor did he allow himself to show that he’d noticed. Elena nodded slowly, which Yuuri took as his cue to continue. 

“Despite everything that happened between us, he was desperate enough to overlook it and beg me to assist him in looking for Makka. I knew that I would have done anything to find Vicchan if it’d been him taken – and that includes going to the one person I never wanted to speak to again. I only understood yesterday just how desperate of an attempt it was. He confessed that, after you left, Makka had become his only anchor.”

He watched as a myriad of emotions was playing on Elena’s features. He was quite certain that he needed not to explain much further than that. Elena looked like she had understood his point. 

“Your departure left very deep scars. I had to _convince_ him” and Yuuri almost snorted bitterly in disbelief at the irony, especially after his earlier outburst, “that even if you’d been the one leaving, his dad the one staying, it didn’t mean that you were the ‘villain’”, he explained, certain they’d all understand he was actually quoting the last word. 

He released a breath, clenching his jaw for a second as he thought of his next words. He made sure he looked at her straight in the eyes, conveying all the implicit meaning he felt she deserved to hear. 

“I told him that things were rarely that simple. That there might have been circumstances unknown to him that led to this turn of events.” 

Her eyes widened, nostrils flaring in...shock? Pain? Regardless, she looked like this was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Yes he was still upset, yes he yelled at her, yes he blamed her. But in retrospect, and it was easier for him to see it now that he’d calmed down: he had no right to be mad at her. She had done the best she could with the cards she had received – and despite all his pain, it wasn’t him who had suffered the most. By his words and gaze, he tried to convey just that: “it sucks, but you did your best. It sucks, but I’m not mad. It sucks, and it’s not me you’ll have to prove yourself to”. 

He waited a few more instants, and knowing he had driven his point home, he shifted off the loveseat and proceeded to leave. He was stopped by his father, calling him back.

“Yuu, wait a second. There’s still something I want to tell you.”

Yuuri had paused mid-movement, having barely left the seat, both fisted hands pushing off the loveseat to help him stand. He looked up, with a question edged on his face for a second, before lowering himself back down. He swallowed nervously as he watched his father’s expression grew impossibly more serious. Throwing a quick glance to Elena and his mother, it seemed they knew what his dad was about to announce because they didn’t look surprised, Elena still seemingly in shock over Yuuri’s revelations. 

Yuuri leaned back in the seat, bringing one leg up, and folding his hands over it, expectantly waiting for his father to continue. 

“After all of this, I trust I don’t need to tell you that caution is key.” 

Yuuri swallowed, nodding minutely.  
“I am sorry you had to realize the danger associated with this investigation the way you did Wednesday. I never wanted you facing this kind of threats but you’ve been caught in the middle…”

“I should have understood that you were serious when you said you didn’t want me anywhere near the case dad, I should have listened,” Yuuri rushed out when his father paused. He stared at Yuuri with a dumbfounded expression. 

“We went over this Yuu, I’m the one who should have known you’d go ahead, with that curiosity of yours and I let you come too close, to the point that withholding information wasn’t smart,” he explained, looking at his hand for a second. “In any case, you know everything now. You’ve seen Anatoly up close this week. He came to the office because of suspicions regarding Elena’s whereabouts,” Yuuri’s eyes widened at the implications and his dad gave a nod even as he kept talking. “Said he had heard rumors from a business partner and he wanted to know if I could look into it.”

The idea of Nikiforov willingly asking for help from the very man who’d worked his ass off to put him behind bars was laughable…and more than suspicious. And if the look on his father’s face was anything to go by, Yuuri knew he didn’t believe in the lie any more than he did. 

With what Yuuri knew now, he was certain that the information had come from Anya. Elena had been in town only this week, but that considering Dvornikov was working with her, Anya may well have heard or seen things she shouldn’t have and talked inconsiderately. 

“Dvornikov warned me that Anatoly’s men had found the bugs in the room after one of their meetings,” Elena spoke up and Yuuri looked at her, snapped out of his musings. “It seems he was kept in the dark when Anatoly sent some men to your office the next day. I only learnt it from your father, and I don’t think Dvornikov knew.”

Yuuri allowed his gaze to wander off downwards, unsure what to think. 

“Yuuri, I want you to promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” 

If it had been any other circumstances, Yuuri would have rolled his eyes with a smile, waving off the concerns in what now appeared as a childish cockiness. 

As it was, Yuuri’s eyes snapped up, both at the use of his full name, and the tone, which brooked no argument. His father was dead-serious. No wonder, considering. Still, realizing the implications of everything he’d learned today, and his father’s warning, didn’t sit well in his stomach. He was wincing when he nodded slowly. 

“Words, Yuuri.” 

He exhaled disbelievingly, staring at the unflinching expression etched on his father’s face. He closed his mouth and looked to the side, nodding again in defeat. 

“I won’t, I promise.”

His father looked satisfied as he leaned back in his seat, and Yuuri felt the need to leave the over-suffocating atmosphere that seemed to only be ever-growing since the talk had started. He looked around, biting his lips and unsure as to how he should excuse himself. 

Eventually he just stood up, raising the attention of the adults and turned around, trying to ignore their inquisitive glances nailed to his back, before he halted, a thought coming to mind with all the displeasure it came with. He turned and met Elena’s gaze, her eyebrows raising in silent question. Yuuri bit his tongue for a second before pressing forward. 

“I also need to know,” he started, and he had all her attention. “Did you actually leave without a word?”

If possible her eyes grew wider, and she blinked several times, lips parted as she let out a soft gasp. Yuuri stood there, unflinching awaiting her answer. His father had told him she’d written letters, but there was absolutely no such thing in Viktor’s version of the story. 

Elena threw glances between his parents, Toshiya who had his eyes solely on Yuuri, a sigh escaping his mouth as he remembered their previous conversation, and Hiroko who did exchange a glance with her friend, puzzled by the question seemingly out of nowhere. 

“I – no, I…” she stammered, visibly flustered. She breathed out, collecting herself before meeting Yuuri’s eyes once more. “I left letters, to both my boys. I wouldn’t have simply vanished from their life without so much of an explanation… why do you…”

Yuuri could see it in her eyes. That she already understood why he asked. He could see the sincerity too. She had indeed left letters. Viktor and Yuri simply never got them. 

Yuuri’s eyes fluttered shut a brief instant, measuring the meaning of that reply and the frantic murmurs from Elena told him she was doing the same. When he looked up she had dropped her head in her hands, eyes tortured, her teeth biting her lip enough to draw blood. 

Yuuri thinned his lips, sick to his stomach at the scene. Elena may have gone wrong about a lot of things, but the pain she clearly exhibited now on her face sank deep in Yuuri’s heart once more. Instead of the flaring anger that had washed over him previously, all he had now was an empty sadness, and he felt incredibly sorry for her. 

He swallowed painfully, and proceeded to leave, unable to look at her further. She looked too much like Viktor, and it twisted his heart more painfully than he wished to admit. 

He had barely made a few steps and he stopped in his tracks, pausing for only a second, considering whether to say what he was thinking. Eventually he didn’t turn, but said loud enough for his parents to hear: “I get why you guys left me in the dark,” he started but unsure how to continue. He bit his lips. “I get it, but that doesn’t make it less painful, considering how close to home this is.” 

He heard his mother exhale a resigned sigh, and Yuuri suddenly felt like he needed his space. As he made to turning the corner before the stairs, he heard his mother’s voice, barely above a whisper but somehow clear enough for him to grasp the words. “I’m sorry Yuuchan.”

It made the lump in his throat grow tenfold. The thickness of her voice broadcasted her sincerity and strangely enough, it made it harder for him to bear. He swallowed the lump and moved along, away from the tension-ridden atmosphere back in the living room.

As soon as he’d gone up to his room, Yuuri closed the door, and it was all he could do to slow his crumbling to the floor by sliding down against the door. His head fell backwards slowly once he was down, and he breathed as slowly as he could, his eyelids fluttering shut for a few seconds. 

“What a fucking mess…”

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, contemplating nothingness as he tried desperately to think of what to do. There had to be something he could be doing, right? 

Something to take his focus away from this. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and slowly yet forcefully pushed his tongue against the edge of his teeth bitterly, making a clapping sound full of frustration. 

Of course, there wasn’t. As soon as he’d seen Elena and heard his dad’s explanation, he had known that her presence in Hasetsu was absolutely confidential. Well, that and Phichit did insist on it several times, but that wasn’t the point. Yuuri was wracked with guilt over not being able to tell Viktor anything about this, especially since it concerned him just as much, if not more, as it did Yuuri at this point. But he knew that even if he felt he owed it to Viktor, Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to tell him about this investigation. It felt too tainted, too dangerous, and the simple notion of bringing Viktor into all this felt deeply wrong. 

Yuuri pushed himself up slowly, feeling like his entire body was made of lead and his muscles had suddenly turned into jelly. He dragged his feet to his desk and slumped back heavily in the chair. 

He stared at the pages scattered across the table, his computer open on the last tab he visited, and the impressive number of post-it and notes all over the place. Ordinarily it used to energize him to go about any investigation. He’d invested so much into finding Makka, trying to puzzle out his relationship with Viktor and making his way through a case bigger that he could have ever imagined, that having it all at a standstill was…distressing. 

Makka was safe and sound back home, his relationship with Viktor looked dangerously – and it was more painful than he would have thought – close to shatter again, and the investigation… 

Well that was just another blow he was at a loss as to how to deal with. 

A pit opened up in his stomach at the realization that for the very first time since the beginning of his short career in private investigation, there wasn’t anything _he_ could do. This was so much bigger than him. The only thing left in his hands was to try and deal with the collateral damage as best he could. And so far, it looked like he was doing an absolutely dreadful job of it. 

Yuuri huffed and pressed the side of his head against the desk, contemplating his options. He hated moping, but the pull to feel sorry for himself all day, and burrito himself in his blankets was rather strong. 

He made weird noises and shapes with his mouth for the next ten minutes, staring into space as he half-heartedly tried to find excuses to mope around, seeing as the investigation was essentially off limit to him now. 

He frowned briefly as a thought occurred to him. Now he had an answer explaining Anya’s behavior. Somewhat. At least he wasn’t as clueless as before: he had a motive. He wished he would know the full extent of her involvement in all of this though. But just like a lot of other things, he couldn’t do much to figure that one out now, could he? 

He started turning his chair sideways, back and forth, in a slow pendulum rhythm, like a metronome. He used to hate staying idle. Usually couldn’t very long, either because his curiosity got triggered one way or another or because his headspace became so crowded it threatened to swallow him whole. 

Now though, the effort of even attempting to find another lead to work on, somehow seemed too great a feat. 

Before he knew it, the rest of his already short day had slipped through his fingers. He had moved from his desk, to being rolled up in his covers, to being sprawled on the floor, staring into nothingness and absentmindedly stroking Vicchan’s soft fur after the small poodle had come nuzzle his shirt. 

When his phone broke the silence with its piercing ringing, Yuuri jumped out of his skin so badly that he let out a scream, frightening Vicchan into hiding underneath the bed with a yelp. Yuuri deflated with a deep sigh and a roll of his eyes as he caught on to what exactly was going on. He shook his head and rolled up off the floor with a groan before scrambling over to get a hold on the traitorous device that conspired to give him a bloody heart attack. 

“Fuck.”

He’d barely read the caller id, that he already knew what this was going to be about. The real world suddenly burst his bubble of laconic lamentations and everything he’d momentarily forgot in favor of despairing over Elena’s explanation rushed back in a flash. He had to resist the urge to groan again. 

“Yuuri! Where the hell are you?”

“I don’t feel like it Phichit,” he all but sighed in the phone, vaguely aware he could have rivalled Viktor’s dramatic flare.

Phichit literally whined, before Yuuri had even finished saying his name. 

“Yuuri, you promised!”

Yuuri could almost hear the pout in the way he dragged on the vowels of his name and it tugged a faint smile at his lips, reminiscing the first few weeks they’d met each other and Phichit couldn’t seem to pronounce his name right. Or used that as an excuse to tease him. That was an entirely probable alternative. 

He still sighed, loudly enough for his friend to hear for good measure, and shifted position to recline his back against the wall behind his bed. 

“I did not, we’ve had this conversation before…” Yuuri heard grumbling and didn’t wait for the retort that was sure to come before he added “I said I’d think about it. I didn’t promise anything.”

“But Viktor’s here, I though you wanted to talk to him!”

Out of all the things Phichit could have said, this probably wasn’t the best way to convince him. The morning conversation was still “painstakingly fresh” in his memory – which sounded better than “he couldn’t think about anything else besides that for the last five hours”. 

And again the same dilemma flared up in his mind, with a renewed force that made it painfully obvious how the discussion had affected things. Omitting saying to Viktor that he’d potentially seen his long lost mother from afar was one thing, and a particularly hard one at that; but having to actively hide that he’d talked to her, that she’d trusted him with all these secrets, while she hadn’t made a single move to contact her sons and knowing how deeply Viktor was still hurting over the lack of understanding, was entirely different. 

The very notion of having to watch his crestfallen face again, the deep ache in his eyes as he apologized back in the hallway was nothing but sickening to Yuuri. 

He swallowed, clinging to the hope he wouldn’t be betrayed by his voice wavering. 

“I did, and I still do,” he trailed off, hesitated over what exactly to say next. Express demand from his parents and Elena not to reveal anything aside, blabbering facts about an undergoing, decade-long mafia investigation over the phone was probably the single most moronic thing Yuuri could ever do. 

“I just don’t think I could, even if I went. Things are clearly still too raw for him ( _and for me,_ he silently added, even if he was certain Phichit would read through it), and I doubt a party is the best place to talk about all this. If anything it might be the _worst_ place to talk about it,” he added after a second, his voice dripping dry humor. 

Well at least it wasn’t wavering. 

Phichit snorted in amusement. 

“Yeah, the last thing we need is you starting strip teasing as your apology. Or pole dancing half naked. Actually all things considered, it might work…” his friend mused and Yuuri felt a faint surge of embarrassment flush his cheeks, but as every time Phichit would mention _that_ particular chain of event, he pushed out his usual protest.

“It happened _once_ Phichit! Once! And may I remind you that it was at least 90% your fault!”

He heard Phichit scoff with mock offence, and Yuuri felt a small smile creeping on his face at the familiar banter. 

“I didn’t force you to drink! You were the one bragging about your high tolerance! I just wanted to test your theory,” he defended petulantly. “Besides, Chris helped!”

“Right, and adding vodka to my gin tonic was your idea of ‘testing’ it?” he asked rhetorically. “Or maybe mixing all the alcohol present on the table was? And yeah that’s why I said 90%, you still have the credit for the splendidly stupid idea.” 

“Well, it did make for good fun.” Phichit didn’t sound apologetic at all, not that Yuuri expected him to, and he broke into a breathy laughter, shaking his head playfully. 

“Hum, well, in any case, it won’t happen again.” He sobered up a notch before pushing forward. “Regardless, a party is still not the best place to talk about any of that.” 

He heard a faint sigh coming from the other side of the line, and he knew that Phichit did technically agree with that statement. Even if, if positions had been reversed and Phichit was the one needing to talk to someone, he wouldn’t have stopped to the minor technicality of having to explain himself in the middle of booze, drunk teenagers and loud trashy music. 

His silence was enough prompt for Phichit to continue, with a much more gentle voice. 

“You know, I still think you should come. It would do you a world of good to have something else to focus on.”

And there it was. Psychic Phichit in action. 

Yuuri closed his eyes as he exhaled slowly. His friend had a point, but at this particular moment – moment that had been in fact dragging since he left the living room up until now – he couldn’t bring himself to even consider going. His head was still overcrowded and surrounding himself with mindless drunk teenagers seemed like the worst way of dealing with it. 

_Ideally_ , he wanted the time to ponder over what he had learned, consider his options. 

_Realistically_ , he did have that time – the entire day in fact – to do just that. 

And the conclusion was the same. There wasn’t anything he could actually do, much less feeling like he was. 

A sudden commotion from the other side of the line made him snap the phone away from his ear with a grimace. 

“What was that?” he asked, as he heard Phichit say something to someone probably standing in his vicinity. 

“What? Oh nothing, Mila opened the door of the office I hid in to call you.”

“It’s already going full swing?” He shot a glance towards his alarm clock. It read 10pm, admittedly a little early.

“Yeah, people came super early, like 8:30 ish, and I’ve been here since like 7. Chris needed help setting things up. Mila, Georgi and I came over, but Georgi’s been entirely useless…” 

There was an edge to his tone that Yuuri wasn’t sure how to interpret. 

“Let me guess; he proclaimed his undying love for Anya?”

“Hum, that but worst…”

“What’s worse than Georgi singing his love?”

“Gross sobbing while doing it,” Phichit spat. It took Yuuri by surprise and his head jerked a little as he frowned, suspecting the acidic edge wasn’t actually a reaction to the sobbing itself. 

Yuuri was a bit wary as he asked, “Why was he crying?”

A beat passed. Then two. And Phichit exploded, making Yuuri jump in surprise. 

“Oh yeah shit! You don’t know! She broke up with him earlier,” he declared, distaste clear and obvious in his voice and Yuuri’s eyes bulged as he shot up from the bed. 

“She WHAT?!”

“Yeah, I know right! Mila was there and she said she couldn’t even laugh cause of how bad it was.” 

Yuuri pursed his lips and nodded, because knowing Mila’s teasing streak, this was saying something. 

“She said Anya acted like a bitch, more like a bitch than usual I mean, if that’s even possible, and said really mean stuff to Georgi; like he was dragging her down, that he was just a waste of time and space,” Yuuri felt his jaw go slack and he couldn’t help a gasp, “yeah right? Georgi’s like, the sweetest guy around! Yeah sure, he can be a little annoying sometimes with his declarations, but he’s always been super respectful and loving with her. For her to just reject all of that, and actively tear him down…” Phichit trailed off, at a loss for words, and Yuuri couldn’t blame him. 

He felt awful for Georgi, he really didn’t deserve any of her bullshit, and especially since he’d always thought Anya didn’t deserve such a sweet guy. 

“She was seriously cruel according to Mila, and looked down right pissed, even for her. She took it all out on Georgi, as if he’d been the cause of her anger. No one could say a word, and they all looked like they felt super bad for Georgi.”

Yuuri hummed, picturing the scene well, and he couldn’t imagine anyone reacting any differently. 

A second after the shock of the revelation though, Phichit’s words started to ring in a different meaning to him and a nagging pit settled in his stomach. 

He swallowed the feeling back, and instead said “At least the party will distract him. Even if only a little.”

He wasn’t really sure about that but it was still better than moping around, wasn’t it? He bit the inside of his cheek at the hypocrisy of that thought, but promptly discarded it when Phichit made a dubitative and pained humming sound which picked Yuuri’s curiosity once more. 

“I don’t think so… Anya’s coming to the party too…”

Yuuri’s face fell, both in anger and at this nagging feeling coming back full force. “What?!” he exclaimed. “What do you mean, why would she be there?” he went on, feeling frantic. 

“She was invited,” Phichit reluctantly admitted. “The party’s been planned for a while, and Chris invited her cause of Georgi and she paid for the kegs… He can’t exactly return them now, they’ve been delivered an hour ago. It sucks but short of sending Georgi home, I don’t know what to do. She’s not here yet though, but last I saw Georgi, Mila was trying to make him slow down on the vodka…”

Yuuri winced at the image of a devastated Georgi already half drunk.

“But why would she even show up at a party where she knows she won’t be welcomed, after what she said?” he was pacing, a hand passing through his hair. 

“For her to realize that, would imply she has basic human decency,” Phichit dryly answered. Yuuri could practically feel the deadpan. “I think we can safely assume she doesn’t. Also, that’s not entirely true; our entire year will be there, and she won’t stay away from such a big party, one that’s been practically advertised like a second prom. With alcohol.”

Yuuri didn’t answer right away, and gritted his teeth. He had a very bad feeling about this. Anya’s break up in itself was bad enough, and he felt sick to his stomach imagining how hurt Georgi must be right now, especially having to go through the entire evening with such a nasty bitch. 

On top of that, the cogs in his mind had reactivated again, and it was reeling, full force. This just added up to the increasingly long list of abnormalities in Anya’s behavior in the last few days, topping what he now knew about the collateral damage of the Sulliman case on her life. Yuuri couldn’t help but seriously consider that Anya was after some sort of pay back for the debacle with her mother.

The why Anya would try to hurt _Viktor_ specifically didn’t make sense to Yuuri, but it was the only logical explanation he had for all the irrational variables in the equation. 

“Yuuri?”

He blinked, shaking away the assault of thought. “Yeah I’m still here,” he mumbled, unable to really say anything else. 

Viktor was at that party.  
Anya, despite all common sense screaming not to, was also going to that party. 

Maybe he was overthinking again, it wouldn’t be the first time, but his intuition was rarely wrong. 

He’d rather regret going for nothing, than not going and be unable to do anything if Anya indeed tried anything. What could she do, in a party full of people, Yuuri had no idea. But she had been acting irrationally enough those past few days that he wouldn’t put it past her to try something brash and desperate. Taunting Viktor with his mother had been cruel, but Yuuri hadn’t realized how potentially dangerous it was until after he’d seen Elena himself. 

Anya hadn’t been lying, and it made him fear that perhaps she knew more than Yuuri had initially thought, and more than she had yet to let on. Perhaps by being at that party, he could do something, anything, to salvage the precarious situation he found himself in. Elena and his dad needed a few more days of anonymity to pull their stunt off, and if Anya suddenly decided to blurt another enormity like she had last time, how long would it take for the rumors to spread all the way to the Nikiforov patriarch. He would be taking this far more seriously than the mere gossiping housewives, and that would put the entire operation at risk. And that was without mentioning the danger that they would all face. 

Yuuri didn’t even want to think about the implications if Anya had indeed, already blabbered what she had seen. It was a possibility and he made an annoyed sound at realizing he hadn’t mentioned it to the adults earlier. _Idiot_. Although hopefully, Andrei being set on helping Elena put Anatoly away meant he perhaps didn’t need to. 

He didn’t need to pretend he had more reasons to evaluate before making a decision. He already knew what he felt he needed to do. 

“Phichit?” he asked, unsure if the other was still on the phone. 

“Hum?” 

“Can you please send me Chris’ address? I haven’t been there in forever.”

He swore he could literally feel his friend combust in excitement at his words, and it made him smile despite being on the verge to step in yet another shitshow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pace's going to pick up next chapter, I promise! 
> 
> Also, again regarding the alcohol - I made the banter around testing Yuuri's alcohol tolerance sounds fun, but it's kinda really stupid...   
> In French we call the drink you make by mixing all the alcohol on the table "un cimetière" (cemetery); I think the name itself is self-explanatory. A friend of mine tried it once back in 12th grade (entirely out of his own volition, and despite our protests) he puked his guts out for hours.   
> I don't know who needs to hear it, but don't do it. It's stupid. Oh and drinking two many different liquors in one evening is also idiotic if you give your liver even a modicum of respect. 
> 
> On that fun note, thank you again for reading and I wish you a good week-end! <3


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are!  
> We're entering one of my favorite part of the story (which conveniently - or inconveniently, I guess depending on the point of view - coincide with one of the hardest to write and I ended up reworking the drafts I don't even know how many times). 
> 
> Like I said in the beginning notes of the previous chapter, I'll change my posting schedule a bit so that I can finish posting this story before Christmas' holidays. 
> 
> WHICH MEANS, you'll have four chapters this week instead of three: today, tomorrow, Thursday and Friday. Which is perfect cause today's chapter's a little short and what will be Friday's chapter cuts off perfectly (or imperfectly, depending on the point of view)! 
> 
> So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this chapter! :D

As expected from a house party organized by the inventor of dramatic flair for an entire promotion of seniors, the villa looked like a damn mess and Yuuri struggled really hard not to lose his patience, trying to navigate through the herd of horny and drunk teenagers, staggering through the halls, singing at the top of their lungs or making out with graciously provided sound effect in not so dark and secluded corners. 

Yuuri looked around when he finally stepped in the large…living room – were living rooms supposed to be this big? – , and stopped in his tracks on top of the small flight of stairs opening in the main area, still as crowded, but at least most of the party goers didn’t look as trashed as those wandering in the hallways he’d crossed so far. He figured that standing there gave him a good vantage point to try to pinpoint (a) Phichit, (b)Viktor, (c) Anya, (d) someone who could help him find any of the above. 

“Ah Yuuri you came in the end!” 

Yuuri swiveled around, only to meet with JJ and his girlfriend, Isabella. They were both smiling, and neither looked drunk to Yuuri’s relief, even if they both had cups in their hands. 

“JJ hey; Hi Isabella” he greeted looking at them in turn, and she smiled softly at him. “How did you know I didn’t want to come?”

Yuuri didn’t think he imagined the brief flush that flashed on JJ’s face at the question. He frowned in suspicion: this was exactly the face everyone made when asked a question they didn’t want to answer. 

To his credit, JJ didn’t stammer when he obviously lied. “Phichit mentioned it.”

Yuuri hummed, disbelieving but he didn’t insist. Instead he moved to stand next to them, facing the large crowd below them. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Phichit is by any chance?” he stopped himself from saying ‘Viktor’. Considering how protective JJ had been of Viktor in the last week, Yuuri wasn’t sure how much Viktor had advertised what had gone down between them. Knowing Viktor, likely nothing, but he didn’t want to waste time calming JJ down if he thought Yuuri had done something to hurt him. Especially since in this particular scenario, Yuuri damn felt like he did. 

“Not recently no,” JJ answered, slowly scanning the crowd. Both boys almost jumped when Isabella’s hand shot in front of them. “I think he’s over there,” she indicated, and Yuuri turned to check where she was pointing. And sure thing, Phichit was with Chris, and none other than Viktor. 

“Good eye,” JJ praised admiringly, before he turned away from the sight at the other side of the room to kiss his girlfriend on the temple. 

“Thanks Isabella,” Yuuri said as he descended the stairs. He snaked his way through the dancers, managed to get beer dropped on his shoes – thank the deities, not on his head like the last party he attended –, got bumped several times before eventually managing to make it all the way to the corner next to one of the massive window doors leading to the vast garden beyond. 

Viktor was standing more or less straight, closer to the one of the closed panel of the window, one hand on the glass, while Chris held his other hand, and Phichit was facing him seemingly trying to assess whether he was going to pass out or empty the content of his stomach on the mahogany floor. 

“You said you weren’t gonna get drunk,” he heard Chris mutter in a half-exasperated, half-amused voice before either of his friends could notice he was here. 

Viktor snorted in a particularly good imitation of his little brother. With his lips set in a disbelieving grimace and both his eyebrows raised, Yuuri had to actually stop a chuckle to pass his lips, especially when the silver-head shot back very seriously “First of all, you should have known that was a lie.”

Phichit did chuckle, and it broke through Chris’s pretense of seriousness and he shook his head playfully. 

“And second of all, I am not _that_ drunk.”

“Yeah well, I’ll forgive you for the lie – both of them – if you could just sit down for a minute, just the time to drink a glass of water, deal?” Chris offered. 

Viktor made a show of considering it, and Yuuri had trouble believing he was the only one seeing that impish gleam ablaze in his eyes. He took a few more steps towards the group, to try and do what, he wasn’t sure but in his head he would have had the time to think of something before Viktor swiveled around Phichit and sniveled his way outdoor where the party was just as alive as inside, bursting into laughter as he did so and leaving both Phichit and Chris speechless behind him. 

“He’s fast for someone drunk,” he commented as if he’d been here all along, which in a way he had, but both his friends jumped out of their skin, Phichit slamming his shoulder into the window in the process, loudly swearing with a flourish in answer. Chris had his hand pressed on his chest, and he grunted upon discovering Yuuri. 

“Damn it Yuuri, I almost died right about now!”

“Right, can someone explain what’s going on? Why is he in that state when you guys look stone-cold sober?”

Phichit was still cradling his shoulder, but he smiled brightly before stepping in Yuuri’s space to give him an awkward no-arm hug. “You made it, I’m so proud of you!”

Yuuri chuckled at their antics, and looked between them expectantly. He didn’t miss the look they shared, and it only made him antsier to know what the hell had gone down for the few hours since that party started. 

“Well, Viktor got drunk,” Chris stated. Yuuri stared at him, mouth open as he waited for the next part of the sentence to be voiced, and when it didn’t come he shook his head levelling an annoyed look at him.

“Thank you Sherlock, I think I had that part figured out.” 

Chris shot a glance at Phichit that Yuuri could only describe as a cry for help and if it wasn’t for Phichit rolling his eyes in return he would definitely have snapped.  
“Viktor’s been drunk within like the first half hour of stepping foot in here. I swear to god, he beat your record,” he added, comment for which Yuuri glared at him.  
“And he may or may not have asked about you like half a billionth time.”

Yuuri managed to school his expression into not morphing with shock, but his heart clenched in his chest at the words. He made a point not to swallow too noticeably, but he couldn’t help looking away for a beat or two, before refocusing on Phichit’s soft but all-knowing expression. 

“Hum, what did he-”

Phichit seemed to understand what he was having to trouble saying for he continued, searching for Yuuri’s gaze, in the way Yuuri knew he always did when he wanted to pierce through his anxiety defenses. And Yuuri cursed inwardly for being this transparent despite his best effort not too. 

“Nothing bad, he’s just been sighing a lot and insisting on talking to you. He asked everyone he saw where you were and why you weren’t here when it finally registered you weren’t. Here, I mean.”

Well, at least that explained JJ’s reaction earlier. But more importantly, in Yuuri’s book, ‘insisting on talking’ didn’t have to be bad, but it didn’t mean it was good either. His skepticism regarding Phichit’s assessment must have shown on his face, for Phichit cocked his head sideways with a vaguely exasperated but fond look. 

“It’s not bad Yuu, I promise. He didn’t look mad or anything.”

Yuuri’s protests died on his lips as he finally realized Chris was here, and before he could utter a particularly moronic comment betraying the investigation loud and clear and instead threw a look in his direction. Chris found his gaze and smiled. 

“There’s still a lot of stuff I don’t understand about what’s been going on between Viktor and you recently, but I feel the need to tell you this,” he said intently, making Yuuri wince a little in anticipation. 

“He’s looked happier in the last week than he has in the last few years combined, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what changed.” 

Yuuri’s mouth fell agape, a silent but sharp breath escaping at the words. Before Chris continued, he made a point to stare pointedly into Yuuri’s eyes, who closed his mouth and made a small move back with his head under the scrutiny. 

“Whatever the hell happened, I hope you two can fix it.”

Yuuri was mute at that, and he could only remember to nod after a few seconds had passed. Chris nodded in return, apparently satisfied with the answer. “You came for that right? Mend things?”

Yuuri levelled his gaze with Chris, not answering until he shared a very brief look with Phichit who seemed to wonder the same thing even if he probably guessed there was more to it. 

“Among other things yes, there was something I really needed to check…” he trailed off at the expectant raised eyebrow Chris levelled at him. He was unsure whether to be honest or not, but he figured that asking solely about Anya’s whereabouts shouldn’t be too suspicious. 

So he turned to the other brunette, trying not to be rude towards Chris. 

“You wouldn’t happened to have seen Anya?” he asked in as low a voice he could for them to hear with all the music, and he hoped his pointed look would do the job to convey just how much he needed to know where she was. 

Phichit’s brow twitched in a frown as he worked out the hidden meaning behind the seemingly innocent question. He soon lowered his gaze to the floor, concentration on his face as he thought about it. After a few seconds, he shook his head slowly and his lips were pinched in a way that told Yuuri he probably hadn’t seen her. 

“You know, I don’t think she’s arrived yet,” Chris mused. “I’m hoping she’ll just forget to show up to be honest,” he added, distaste clear in his voice. 

Before Yuuri could add anything, the sound of someone cannonballing their way into the pool snapped their heads up and they all went over to the open windows, all faces suddenly falling in a mixture of shocked amusement. 

And there, obviously, was Viktor entirely clothed and entirely wet, long hair forming a halo on the surface of the water around him. 

“Oh boy…”

“I wholeheartedly agree with that statement,” Chris muttered under his breath, before darting outside to try and help his best friend out of the pool and Phichit was trying his best to hold back a laugh. 

Yuuri watched with disbelieving amusement, his reasons to be here in the first place momentarily forgotten. He followed as Phichit too made his way outside, waiting on the forecourt of the terrace. Despite hosting far more people outside than inside, the garden didn’t seem as crowded, being considerably bigger than the main living room. They had a plunging view on the estate from where they stood, and particularly on the pool from which a very amused Viktor emerged after a few minutes of coaxing from Chris.

He was obviously a happy drunk, and his face was painted with that carefree, gleeful expression, and looked like he was having the time of his life. If Yuuri was being honest, he was pleased to see that big goofy smile adorning his lips again, even if it sent a twinge of guilt to his gut knowing he’d been the reason it had left them in the first place. 

He couldn’t dwell on it very long as every thought suddenly left his mind as Viktor proceeded into the next item of his drunken-action to-do list. 

He had barely made it out of the pool that he had already managed to discard his shirt, and Yuuri’s eyes widen, chest suddenly very tight at the sudden pounding of his heart. He barely noticed how the shirt fell right back in the water despite Chris’s desperate attempt to catch it or how Chris stared at his failure with a grimace before turning back to Viktor, probably to tell him off over it. 

What he did notice however, was how Viktor completely ignore his friend and try to go for his pants next. 

As if it hadn’t been entirely too distracting before.

Yuuri closed his eyes with a deep breath, mouth impossibly dry, when Viktor proceeded to finally shed his pants off, triumphantly swinging them above his head and swaying his lips, all naked but for his boxer briefs. 

Yuuri’s stomach was in knots and he muttered under his breath, internally screaming and outwardly cursing the stupid above deities tormenting him with absolutely not needed distractions. 

And Phichit, helpful as ever to add: “He’s almost as good as you at drunk-strip-tease!” Yuuri deflated in exasperation at the singing all-knowing tone Phichit had obviously taken. 

“I need to go,” Yuuri muttered, not wasting a second in putting as much distance as he could between drunk, wet, three-quarter naked Viktor and himself. 

He navigated the crowd without really thinking about it, all his intent set on finding the nearest, even remotely, quiet room. He climbed the few stairs at the entrance of the living room and found a bathroom at the corner of the corridor leading further from the main excitement. 

He promptly swept in, slamming his back to the door once he’d closed it, his heart thundering in his ears. He closed his eyes as he took deep inhales through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. 

He tried desperately to erase the image of a dancing Viktor out of his mind, but it seemed like the more he tried, the clearer it was imprinted in his retinas.

Yuuri wasn’t an idiot, and as always his brain was prompt into finding an explanation to how completely flustered he was right at this moment. And as always when an explanation was a little too out of his comfort zone, Yuuri shoved it in the limbos of his mind as strongly as he could. 

When he couldn’t calm down, he went for the sink and frantically splashed water over his face. Looking up, he noted that he at least didn’t look as bad a hot-mess as he felt, but somehow that was just a very meager consolation. He closed his eyes, Viktor’s dazzling smile taunting him there again. 

All he needed now was for Phichit to come and find-

The door opened and slammed in all but a second, and Yuuri turned in one sharp move only to be met with a concerned Phichit.

“You ok?” he asked with a tone that clearly implied he knew Yuuri wasn’t. 

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, before he started pacing in the insolently large bathroom. 

“I don’t want to be redundant here, but I thought you wanted to talk to him,” Phichit continued after a few seconds of silence. Yuuri had clasped his hands behind his neck as he continued pacing, and he huffed a dry laugh dropping them away. 

“I told you on the phone talking at a party wasn’t a good idea,” he replied, sparing a sharp look at his friend. 

“Yeah you did, so now I’m curious. What happened that made you change your mind and come anyway?” 

Yuuri noticed Phichit was not asking about why he was here, as in, hiding in a bathroom like a 15 year old embarrassed by a boner, and he couldn’t help but think it was because Phichit already knew. It didn’t help his case, and he groaned, head dropping to face towards the floor, before focusing on answering the question. 

At least this was in a much safer zone than the emotional mine field he was trying to avoid. 

“Remember what I told you about Anya, when we were at the café?” he started, intently looking at Phichit as he made an effort to try and stop pacing. His friend nodded, and he took it as his cue to continue. “I already had my suspicions about her, that maybe somehow she was connected to the investigation. Well something happened this morning that made me reconsider. I don’t think she has any part in the investigation, or in her father’s dealings, but it’s definitely about Viktor. I…,” he trailed off briefly, hesitating and proceeded to turn both taps on. With the music blasting in the house it would be a miracle if anyone heard anything, but better safe than sorry. “I saw Elena again this morning. She was at our house, with both my parents and she told me all about everything that happened prior her departure and what she had been doing.” 

Phichit’s eyes had grown impossibly wide at that, and Yuuri jerked his head to the side with a pointed expression, showing how wholeheartedly he shared that state of mind. 

“I can’t give you any details, but basically she mentioned something that made me think it over. I couldn’t understand the why, remember? Why Anya would try and hurt Viktor. It was definitely her that asked Hans to kidnap Makkachin, and when it fell apart because we stopped him, she verbally attacked him in the hallway, which according to Viktor wasn’t the first time.” 

He paused before continuing, knowing it would come just as big as a shock as it had for him. 

“Do you remember that accident, when that woman’s car fell off Maizuru bridge into the river?” Phichit frowned but nodded. “Well not an accident after wall. 

According to Elena, Valeriya Dvornikova attempted suicide because of the whole public and private debacle that followed the Nikiforov investigation. It severely impacted Anatoly’s partner, Andrei Dvornikov, and brought unwanted attention from mafia at home in Russia and Valeriya didn’t take it well.” 

He paused, to let Phichit process what he was saying. And for himself to gather his words. 

Phichit looked shell-shocked, but as usual he bounced back quickly. Biting his lips, and exhaling deeply, he nodded at Yuuri, signaling him to continue.

“I think that’s where the grudge is coming from,” he started once more, his tone wistful. “I don’t know exactly why she’s suddenly decided to act on it, but that must be it. She was nagging at Viktor using his _mother_. I’m not sure how, but I’m certain it’s connected.”

Catching up as fast as Yuuri knew he would, Phichit didn’t miss a beat. “So when I told you she would be here, you thought she might try something against Viktor?”  
Yuuri nodded with emphasis. “Maybe I’m overthinking or overreacting, but when you told me about the breakup, it was just another thing adding up. She was acting covertly for Makkachin, hiding her game, but she’s been brash as of late, and I couldn’t help but think that this breakup, especially how brutal it was, just meant that she was going to do something stupid.”

“And you wanted to warn Viktor,” Phichit deduced. 

Yuuri winced at that. How the hell was he supposed to do that if he couldn’t think straight for two seconds? 

“I was thinking more along the lines of keeping an eye on him,” he offered lamely, which earned him a sharp look from his friend. 

“You need to talk to him at some point, why not do that while you ‘keep an eye on him’?” Phichit countered, arms crossed. 

“I told you I didn’t want to talk about all that at a party.”

“And yet you’re here.” Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, but Phichit beat him to it, raising a hand to stop him and continuing on. “I know it wasn’t your main goal to talk when you came, but might as well do so now. How do you propose trying to keep him away from Anya if you can’t explain why?”

Pertinent question. But Yuuri had just as pertinent an answer. 

“First of all, he’s drunk so I’m pretty sure I could stir him in whatever direction, he’d follow. Second, I was just planning on keeping an eye on _him_ and keep _Anya_ away from him.”

Phichit rolled his eyes and untied his arms as he vehemently shot back, “Oh brilliant plan! You’re forgetting something Einstein! If she’s looking for Viktor, and you’re looking for her, the three of you are bound to end up in the same place. Especially since Viktor’s been looking for you all evening!” 

Yuuri made a face at that. 

“Stop pouting! You’ll have to talk to him then!”

“I can’t Phich! You know I can’t…”

Phichit closed his eyes and brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, exhaling deeply like Yuuri was the biggest headache he’d ever gotten. Yuuri thought that perhaps that was the case, but he couldn’t help but think Phichit was exaggerating and he stared, pouting as his friend levelled a look at him.

“Yuuri Katsuki I swear, you are impossible! We’ve talked about this yesterday! Several times! I know you can’t say everything about the investigation, but I’m sure you can think of _something_ to tell him, to at least ensure that he doesn’t end up at the wrong end of Anya’s grudge and that you guys stop playing tag around each other!”

Purposely not dwelling on the truth of those words, Yuuri focused on the ‘something’ of the sentence. 

“I can’t!” he exclaimed throwing his arms out. “Phichit, it’s one thing to see Elena from afar, to have my dad explain a few things, but it’s an entirely different one to have the entire investigation laid out before me by the very person who’s been giving clues to my dad and the sheriff for years! Who, might I add, also happens to be the mother of my ex-best friend, who’s only my ex-best friend because said mother left because said investigation!” 

Phichit lifted one eyebrow, as if agreeing with the potential dilemma here, and sighed before Yuuri kept on. 

“I don’t know what to do. I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to do, and he just…” 

Yuuri huffed, frustration building up in his gut but his tone stayed levelled, and he started pacing again. 

“It’s a fucking mess, it’s not just about Viktor and I, Phichit, it never was! We were always caught up in something bigger than either of us, and I’m fucking lost! I have this guilt right there,” he said more quietly but just as intently, his fist on his stomach. “You know how hard it already was when my dad told me about it all after I saw Elena, but it’s been a constant nagging since she explained everything. I know all the details regarding an investigation about Viktor’s family I said I had no knowledge of. How can I go around that? How am I supposed to just go and talk to Viktor, after everything I know he had to go through because of this? It’s not _fair_ Phich! To either of us,” he almost pleaded and didn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 

They stayed silent for a handful of seconds, before Phichit rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. “Well, damn.”

Yuuri breathed out a dry huff, but didn’t comment.

“I know it’s far from a consolation, but to your defense you said you had no knowledge of the investigation when you were 11, not that you didn’t know anything now,” Phichit argued. 

Yuuri sent a half-glare Phichit’s way, who had his “well that’s true” face on. He relented with a small pout and both found themselves in silence for a few seconds before Yuuri spoke again. 

“How can I talk to him if all I can focus on is the shame and the guilt of hiding such important information from him? I wouldn’t feel guilty if it was just another investigation…”

“I know.”

“But with this, it’s just… I know we’re just starting to get along again, but he was the best friend I ever had as a child, what kind of friend just hides that?

He only realized what he’d said once the words were out of his mouth, and they uncomfortably made bile churn in his stomach at how wrong they felt. 

“Yuuri,” Phichit whispered, his tone infinitely soft and gentle. Yuuri looked up, knowing his face must be a dead giveaway of his internal struggle. “You and I both know you guys are more than-”

Yuuri closed his eyes and sharply exhaled. “Don’t.”

He couldn’t bring himself to think about this. The mere thought of losing a newly found friend was terrifying in and of itself, and had been for quite some time now. 

He couldn’t add…whatever this was to the mix. The warmth he’d felt bursting in his stomach at the sight of Viktor earlier came to the forefront of his mind and he closed his eyes, exhaling deeply as if that would make the memory fade away, even just a little.

He heard Phichit sigh again, and felt the weight of his hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze as if to alleviate the weight of his next words. 

“You’re running from the truth Yuu.”

Yuuri chuckled breathily and dryly, attempting to joke even if it came out rather pathetically, “Only when it’s chasing me.”

“Yuuri,” Phichit said after a while. “I agree that it’s far from ideal, but I still think you can’t leave things as they are. I know that you feel like you would be blatantly lying to him if you spoke to him yet don’t reveal anything about Elena. But I still believe you need to try… Maybe if you only talk about Makka?” he tentatively added, and despite everything Yuuri was touched that he was trying to find solutions to a predicament that didn’t have any good one. “And yes, it’s unfair, and hard for you but you have to see that you don’t really have another choice, right?”

Yuuri met his gaze, looking probably as miserable and resigned as he felt because Phichit’s expression softened further, if that was possible, his head tilting to the side as he took sight of Yuuri. 

“He’s just as stubborn as you are,” he added, a small grin tugging at his lips and it managed a smile out of Yuuri. “If you go to him with the express demand not to seek out Anya, he’ll ask why. If you try and stay away, simply keeping an eye on him from afar like you said, you might avoid having to talk but it’s no guarantee; I told you, if she’s looking for him and you’re looking for her, you bound to end up in the same place, and then you’d have to work with having both Anya and Viktor in the same room.” 

Yuuri as loathe as he was to accept it, knew Phichit was right. It didn’t make him feel any better, and if anything just made everything else worse. 

“Don’t talk about everything today,” he continued his coaxing, his attempt to make a shitty situation look better obvious to Yuuri, “but you could at least try to go back to some sort of status quo where you guys don’t ignore each other.” 

Yuuri passed his hands over his face and in his hair, sighing. 

“I know you’re right,” he relented eyes still nailed to the floor, only to look up in alarm at the sudden gasp from Phichit who had brought his hand to his heart and looked offended. Yuuri gave him a searching look. 

“I’m always right Yuuri! It’s a given, it’s implied! I’m offended you felt the need to say it out loud!”

He was being so ridiculous that Yuuri burst out laughing, and had never felt more grateful to have Phichit for a best friend. 

After calming down a notch, he huffed with a smile as he opened his arms in clear invitation for a hug. “Drama queen,” he muttered as Phichit readily gave the hug back. 

“Also, I think you should know I will do everything in my power so that you actually do talk to Viktor,” he added as they parted, Yuuri making an effort not to follow the thread of worry he’d been ranting about for the last thirty minutes and didn’t protest. Instead he nodded, jaw clenched as if to try and seal his resolve. 

Perhaps he just needed to make himself believe it was the only option, avoid considering the way it was making his guts churn with guilt or think about his new awareness regarding his relationship with Viktor. If he started to even think doubting that it wasn't the best option or to fall in the rabbit hole his thoughts seemed intent on dragging him into, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go through with it. 

So he turned off his reeling spin of worries as best he could with a sharp exhale and nodded again, opening his eyes to a softly smiling Phichit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts....? I do feel like we're kicking off this party pretty well. Yuuri's an emotional mess, Viktor's a drunk mess, Phichit's an amazing friend, Chris is just about done with Viktor's antics and Yuuri's got a mission! 
> 
> Anyway, hope you liked it! :D Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Side-note: the bridge I mention, Maizuru Bridge, is inspired by the very real bridge in Karatsu, in the saga prefecture, which inspired Hasetsu a great deal. (google Maizuru bridge Hasetsu and you'll see what I mean!)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised! :)   
> I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as much as I do. It's one of my favorites I think...
> 
> Anyway! Enjoy!

“Do you think Anya’s arrived yet?” 

They’d been looking around from the moment they’d been out the door, ignoring the suggestive looks they received as they both emerged from the same bathroom.   
“No idea,” Phichit said, obviously distracted by trying to spot the teenage viper, before he turned back to Yuuri who met his gaze questioningly. 

“I can look around for you, I’ll tell you if and when I see her. You,” he continued with a more pointed look and emphasizing the pronoun, “are going to find Viktor.”

Yuuri had to literally bite his lip to make the protests die before they were voiced. Instead he nodded with a very thinned-lip grimace, as if he needed to seal his lips to avoid begrudging out loud against what Phichit was prompting him to do. 

“Good. If I see him, I’ll send him your way too, got it?”

“Don’t you think you’re pushing a little too much?” Yuuri retorted. 

“Nope, just enough.” 

Yuuri shook his head, eyes going skywards as he did so and got back to looking around, this time to try and spot the silver-head. He didn’t even notice when Phichit slipped past him, but when he looked to his side after what felt like barely a few moments, he was alone. Or as alone as anyone could be in the middle of gigantic high school party. 

As he made his way back towards the main room that led to the back garden, he couldn’t help but return their earlier conversation in his mind. Phichit was right, he had been running away, and he was still doing it. His reasons to try and get out of talking to Viktor were perfectly sound arguments… It did feel all kinds of wrong to hide something like this from Viktor, but all things considered, he couldn’t keep using that as a shield to hide himself with. 

He knew a conversation with Viktor was long overdue. From the moment Viktor had come all the way to his house that evening, solely to try and share how confused he was by their partnership, and how he desperately wanted to try and make things better between them, Yuuri should have realized he was the one being unfair. All these years he had thought of Viktor as an arrogant, cold-hearted and conceited asshole that only cared about himself, enjoying Yuuri’s misery. Starting working together had been like waking up with an ice-bucket being poured over his head. He used to believe he was fairer, nicer and a generally more decent person than the Viktor he had painted in his mind. 

And yet, it had been Viktor who had been the first to reach out, while all Yuuri could do, was musing in the privacy of his own mind or talking it over with Phichit.   
Never the thought of talking directly to Viktor had crossed his mind until he had run away from him, back in that deserted corridor. For the second time, Viktor had been forthcoming and honest, baring his soul with nothing but honesty and Yuuri had lashed out, releasing his own pain. He had deeply felt what Viktor had told him… He could picture how desperate 12 year-old Viktor must have been, and how profoundly an investigation unbeknownst to him and so much bigger than them had reverberated on and impacted the small boys he and Yuuri had been. 

Yuuri wanted to apologize for this…For being unable to voice his empathy beyond the single hug he had given before he knew the story involved him too. A hug he couldn’t remember without aching all over, longing for another one. For being unable to break free of his own emotions, of the misery he’d been hiding behind a mask of cynicism and confidence all these years. 

He had had a choice then: swallowing his pain, staying, hugging Viktor again like he desperately wanted to with the promise they could build from there; or staying stuck in his own hurt and head, and run away. 

Yuuri wasn’t proud of the choice he had made, and he knew in his head as well as in his heart that he needed, for both their sake, to talk about it. To be as forthcoming and honest as Viktor had been. Viktor deserved as much from him after everything he had been through and the efforts he had made in spite of it all.   
Sure thing, Yuuri had suffered too. But when offered with a choice to make the same efforts Viktor had made, he had taken the easy way out, and it made him feel more pathetic than he ever had in his entire life. 

Yuuri swallowed as he continued slaloming between the party-goers, obviously oblivious to his own mental turmoil, his head swiveling left and right, eyes searching as fast as he could to try and find Viktor despite the dread firmly settled in the pit of his stomach. 

Because as much as he knew he needed to talk to Viktor about how wrong he had been all these years, and about how happy it made him that they could finally comfortably speak with each other, he was plagued by shame and guilt over the events of the last few days and no amount of talking to Phichit could alleviate it.  
He knew of Viktor’s anguish over his mother leaving, and the consequences it had led them into. He was now one of only three people – well, five if he counted Anya and her dad– who knew she was back, without any right to that privilege, and yet he had no choice but keeping it a secret from one of the very person he knew needed to hear about it the most. 

He knew all about an investigation he had told Viktor he knew nothing of; an investigation that came between them in the worst way possible; an investigation that had destroyed Viktor’s faith in his mother, in Yuuri and in himself; that had turned him in a bitter teenager, angry at the world on the outside, but oh so small, vulnerable and hurting in the inside, unable to make sense of the lie he’d been stuck in. And yet Yuuri couldn’t help him understand. 

Admittedly, it wasn’t Yuuri’s fault he was stuck in circumstances he couldn’t do anything about. The investigation had never been in his hands, and he had grown aware today that there was nothing he could really have done to help with it. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t talk to Viktor about any of it… But it didn’t alleviate the shame and the guilt… It didn’t change the fact that it only added on what Yuuri felt he had already done to hurt Viktor.

Yuuri breached the crowd once more, painfully slowly making his way towards the alignment of glass doors to try and check if perhaps Viktor was still around the pool. With each steps, Yuuri’s heart seemed to plummet further at the idea of facing him; of having to look at him in the eyes, and purposely lie to him. A lie by omission, but a lie nonetheless. 

It felt as if Yuuri was destroying the trust they had developed once again over the last week, as if he didn’t care about the bond they had painstakingly managed to repair. It was hard to believe now that less than two weeks ago, he would have been able to say without lying consciously that he didn’t care about Viktor at all.   
The thought almost made him laugh. He would have looked like a maniac, laughing all by himself, but with everyone around in their own alcoholic bubble, he probably would have gone unnoticed. 

He bit his lips almost enough to draw blood as he kept on walking. He couldn’t, and didn’t want to, pretend that he didn’t care anymore. He had spent more than a week getting surprised by Viktor’s reactions, comments, quirks and expressions; being constantly kept on his toes as he grew aware that perhaps he had misjudged Viktor more than he would have thought possible. 

What was worse was how he grew aware of his own attitude towards him. How he caught himself wishing to see that brilliant heart shaped smile, the crinkles around his eyes when they narrowed in amused mischief or the way his eyes brightly shone with all the emotions Viktor experienced. How bitter-sweet it was to realize that finding Makka meant they were likely to stop spending time together, or how genuinely happy he had been at seeing that perhaps Viktor didn’t want to go back to how they used to be either. How strongly he was craving Viktor’s embrace, or how his flowery scent made him feel calmer. How painfully it had made his stomach clench, how dry it had made his mouth go, how brutally it had taken his breath away, at seeing him come out of the pool and out of his clothes, swaying to a song Yuuri couldn’t hear. 

No. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t care anymore… And that was probably one of the most painful realization of all. 

Suddenly it was too much. He was in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by careless dancers, jumping to an obnoxious rhythm-less beat. He felt dragged into a bubble dulling his sensorial perception, the periphery of his vision darkening, everything else blurring, the music reduced to a ringing in his ears and a thundering of echoing vibrations in his ribcage. 

He was terrified. 

All his emotions, all his worries, all his thoughts were tangled in a whirlwind that had his head spinning… The guilt and the shame were a blade being twisted in his guts, but what lay underneath was so much harder to face. 

It was the unknown of how their conversation would go, and of the consequences of Viktor finally discovering the whole truth. There was no kidding himself into believing that his involvement with the investigation as of late, or knowing Elena’s whereabouts will ever stay a secret long. 

How would Viktor react then? Yuuri had lost him once over it all… He knew with absolute certainty he wouldn’t be able to bear losing him a second time, especially now that he started to understand how great his change of heart was. 

Yuuri breathed out shakily as he fought hard to keep himself from being overwhelmed once again. Suddenly a hand was on his arm, burst was his panic bubble, the world coming back into focus. 

He swallowed, breathing deeply as he took in who it was that had reached out. 

“Seung-Gil, hey,” he greeted, trying to ignore the way Seung-Gil’s eyes shone with concern, despite the blank mask he rarely shed off. 

He raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you ok?” 

Yuuri was prompt to nod, schooling his face back with his usual composed expression and attempted to change the topic. 

“I’m fine, no problem. Just a lot of people. What are you doing here?”

He could see the skeptical look Seung-Gil spared him but it was quickly gone. 

“Phichit invited me. I didn’t want to come at first, but he can be very persuasive.” 

Yuuri chuckled at that. “I know what you mean.” 

He was glad Phichit had managed to drag Seung-Gil to the party, even if he hadn’t even intended on going himself. If it was probably true Seung-Gil enjoyed being by himself most of the time, Yuuri couldn’t help but feeling a little sad knowing that he didn’t seem to have any friends. 

He realized that Seung-Gil had dragged them a little further out of the crowed and they were now back to where Chris had been helping Viktor earlier. Yuuri took the chance to look around, and threw a glance outside where he quickly noticed that Viktor wasn’t anywhere to be seen in or around the pool. 

“Looking for someone?”

“Huh? Oh hum yes actually, but I…don’t…think they’re here,” he explained eyes still strained outside where people were mingling. “Anyway, I hope you’re having fun!” he added, returning his attention to the quiet teenager. “I’ll see you later, yes?”

Seung-Gil nodded and Yuuri looked at his retreating form being swallowed whole by the crowd. Yuuri sighed and thanked the deities above for once instead of cursing them. He felt stupid for panicking yet again, but thankful that Seung-Gil had interrupted his train of thought before it completely derailed. 

He went outside, savoring the chiller air that welcomed him. It was not anywhere near cold, but the temperature definitely dropped a few degrees compared to the stuffy atmosphere inside the house. Yuuri already felt clearer-headed after a few steps. 

“Ah, Katsudon.”

He turned around, only to see Yuri sitting with the same boy he had been with a few days ago on a long chair, both nursing a drink that Yuuri hoped was alcohol free. He really didn’t need a second drunk Nikiforov. Yuri seemed to notice his suspicion because he rolled his eyes and nearly threw his glass in front of Yuuri.

“Want to check?” 

Yuuri levelled a look at him beneath a raised eyebrow at the tone but didn’t comment, simply approaching the two. He smiled at the brunette, whose stoic features softened a little with a small nod. 

“Hi I’m Yuuri,” he said, extending his hand which was soon clasped by Yuri’s friend. 

“I know, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said with a faintly bigger smile and Yuuri had to wonder whether what he’d heard was good or bad. Yuri’s light blush was enough hint in the matter however. “I’m Otabek.”

“Nice to meet you, Otabek.”

He turned back to Yuri who had silently watched the exchange. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen your brother by any chance?”

Yuri snorted loudly, his glass splashing some of its content on the floor. 

“Who hasn’t?” 

Yuuri’s eyebrows went up in surprise, although admittedly he probably should have expected the answer considering Viktor’s antics earlier.

Yuri elaborated quickly, after he graced Yuuri with another roll of eyes that had Yuuri itching to smack the back of his head. 

“He’s not exactly the personification of discretion, especially when he’s tipsy. Plus he’s been harassing everyone to know where you were at.”

Yuuri hated how his cheeks flushed at that, but was glad they were outside where it was dark enough they probably wouldn’t notice. Thank the deities for small mercies. 

“ _That_ was ‘tipsy’?” he asked instead, deflecting attention away from his reddened cheeks. 

“Oh yeah, you don’t want to see him really drunk, he’s an even bigger pain in the ass than usual.”

“Right…” 

“You can tell by looking at his eyes.” 

Both Yu(u)ris turned their head to Otabek, whose eyes went between the two. 

“I’ve seen him drunk before, and it always seems like he doesn’t see when he’s drunk. But tonight the look in his eyes has been sharp all evening, he’s not drunk.”  
Yuuri hummed in consideration. He knew he hadn’t imagined that impish gleam earlier. It had been far too clear to belong to someone nearly as drunk as Viktor had made himself appear to be. And he had to refrain from smiling when he caught the equally non-imagined admiring expression that flashed on Yuri’s face as he stared at Otabek. 

“Good to know. Thanks guys,” he said as he turned away, reaching closer to the edge of the pool, where a few people seemed to have followed Viktor’s earlier example. The conversation hadn’t exactly helped in pinpointing where the hell Viktor was, but learning that he wasn’t drunk was a bigger silver lining he could have hoped for. 

He turned around, facing the villa and gritted his teeth at the sight. It was enormous and full of people… It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. He allowed his eyes to travel up and down, and across an actual wall of window doors, and strained his neck as he reached the east side. He felt uplifted upon realizing the last few sets of doors led to another room rather than the crowded main area. Glad he could avoid having to cross that human sea again, he went straight in the direction of the open doors, and landed in the large kitchen. Already learning not to get too easily surprised by the disproportionate size of every single room in this stupidly large house, Yuuri looked around registering the empty bottles of alcohol scattered over the kitchen islands and various trash bags full of red cups. Yuuri didn’t dwell on his surprise at finding that Hasetsu High schoolers were considerate enough to throw their cups away in a bag instead of literally anywhere, and strolled over to the archway leading out in another open space corridor. 

He soon found himself in what looked like some sort of sitting room full of large couches. Plush carpets had been rolled and pushed in a corner to avoid stains, but Yuuri briefly wondered if the couches had been bought due to their crimson-color. Considering the type of guests Chris had invited, whoever had thought of it was probably relieved. 

He took in the room and sighed as he couldn’t find Viktor, before leaving and wandering down the large corridor, passing by and only checking quickly the array of rooms he found. 

Just as he started to feel a familiar feeling a frustration crawling in, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he came to a halt, only managing to take the device after several painstakingly long seconds of struggling with his stupidly tight skinny jeans. One look at the newly received message and the frustration vanished. 

**Phich**   
_Found him! He’s in the entrance hall; Mila’s talking with him!_

He didn’t even take the time to replace his phone back that he’d scurried off in the hallway, only to realize he’d seriously delved deep into the mansion and he had no idea which way he had to go in order to find the entrance hall again. He turned around on himself several times, assessing his options before picking one direction a bit at random. 

After several minutes he managed to find his way back to the main entrance hall – that seriously looked like it had been meant to host a presidential ceremony with how big it was – where teenagers were still drunk as hell, still singing at the top of their lungs hitting all the wrong chords, half passed out but somehow still on their legs or making out here and there. 

That’s when he saw him and all the air softly exited Yuuri’s lungs in relief. It was quickly replaced by the nagging stir he’d come to get accustomed to, but he felt grateful for not panicking once again. 

Viktor was sitting in the middle of the imperial staircase, surrounded by a few people that Yuuri didn’t recognize and Mila sitting next to him. It seemed like someone had managed to coax him back in his clothes, even if his shirt was left unbuttoned. His hair was still free, a few strands resting over his shoulder and on his chest, clearly still wet and shining in the light of the room. He had rested his chin in one hand propped over his knee, and Yuuri’s heart felt squeezzed at the sad wistful look on his face as he exchanged words with Mila that Yuuri could never hope to grasp. 

_He’s beautiful _, his traitorous mind supplied, and Yuuri’s heart stopped at the thought, acutely aware of his cheeks burning.__

__Before he could even think of gathering his courage to go and talk to him, he was tackled in a one arm hug around his shoulders and neck and his attention was taken away again._ _

__“Yay found you! I was starting to worry you didn’t receive my message,” Phichit stated as he released him, his usual smile firmly in place. If anything it did warm Yuuri’s heart from the cold iron of conflicting feelings that seemed to squeeze whenever he laid eyes on Viktor, and he smiled back tentatively._ _

__“I got a little lost to be honest,” he admitted, resolutely looking at Phichit instead of towards the stairs. Phichit obviously noticed, and seemed to completely misunderstand Yuuri’s attempt at stalling a few additional minutes to compose himself, and instead assumed that it meant he would chicken out, for he took the matter into his own hands, taking Yuuri more than completely by surprise._ _

__“I think I should tell Viktor you’re here.”_ _

__Before the words could even register, Phichit had taken a few steps forward, and screamed at the top of his lungs with one hand around his mouth the other waving madly above his head._ _

__“Hey Viktor look, Yuuri’s here!”_ _

__That drew the attention of more than a few people around and out of instinct more than anything, Yuuri reached out desperately to lower his arm. It didn’t deter Phichit, who called out to Viktor again, and Yuuri was powerless but to endure being the center of attention in the middle of a bloody royal entrance hall, and he was more than acutely aware that color had reached all the way to the tip of his ears._ _

__He could literally feel the stares going between him and Viktor. Well, if rumors hadn’t started up once more, this was sure to seal the deal. He was more annoyed than embarrassed over it, but it quickly faded away as movement caught his eyes and he instinctively looked up to where Viktor had been sitting._ _

__He had straightened up, chin a few centimeters up away from his hand, and he was looking straight in Yuuri’s direction, his entire demeanor screaming shy hope, as if Yuuri was a small animal he was afraid of seeing scurry off._ _

__It pained Yuuri to no end, and he released a shaky breath. This had not been the way he wanted things to happen._ _

__Clenching his jaw, he looked back to his so-called friend, just as Phichit turned triumphantly to Yuuri’s all-powerful death glare. That obviously didn’t work, and his friend looked positively ecstatic with himself._ _

__“Phichit Chulanont, I’m gonna fill my pockets with rocks, get a good grip on your ankles and jumps off the-“_ _

__“Before you finish that sentence, you should consider that people are still staring.”_ _

__That did kill Yuuri’s threats on his lips in an incomprehensible groaning, and pursed his lips so strongly he probably looked like a Yaksha statue. He huffed, still glaring at Phichit before swiveling around. It wasn’t hard to ignore the stares when he looked up again. Viktor had gotten up, his feet on different steps and his hand on the railing. His head was cocked sideways as he kept his eyes nailed on Yuuri, lips parted and his eyes shone with fragile expectation._ _

__Yuuri didn’t remember making any conscious decision, but he somehow ended up one step down of Viktor._ _

__“Yuuri,” his name was nothing but whispered. “You’re here.”_ _

__It took Yuuri a few seconds to realize he needed to answer, and he exhaled a breathy chuckle, offering a tentative smile._ _

__“I’m sorry, I think I got lost on the way.”_ _

__His voice was miraculously steady, but barely louder than Viktor’s and it was a wonder they could hear each other at all with that blasted music. Strangely enough though, Yuuri couldn’t register any of it… It all felt too far away, the music muted, his surroundings blurry._ _

__Viktor’s face was open with a gentleness Yuuri hadn’t come expecting. He swallowed as Viktor’s smile grew softer, and despite seeing Viktor’s hand move he couldn’t help the small flinch when it wrapped around his, anchoring him to the present._ _

__Viktor jerked his head towards the stairs behind him in a clear, if voiceless, invitation to follow, which Yuuri did, still somewhat battling his conflicted thoughts; the guilt and shame warring with the contentment he could feel radiating from the warmth in his hand all the way to his chest._ _

__It felt incredibly right and somehow it made it all incredibly wrong._ _

__They had reached a somewhat deserted corridor upstairs, and Viktor had already turned the handle when Yuuri couldn’t bear the nagging uneasiness any longer, and he took his hand back slowly, cradling it to his chest._ _

__He met Viktor’s eyes as the other turned to face him, a questioning expression coating his features and faint hurt flashing through his eyes that made Yuuri want to crawl into a hole and never leave. He wouldn’t back down now though, for better or for worse, he needed to talk to Viktor and he would never be able to live with himself if he gave in to the easy way out again._ _

__He nodded towards the door with as soft an expression as he could muster, forcing a smile that would definitely not reach his eyes with how sick he was with himself.  
Viktor observed him for a few seconds but he didn’t comment, simply following on with Yuuri’s prompting, opening the door and allowing Yuuri to enter first. Yuuri took in the room, probably one of the only decent-proportion rooms he had come across in this blasted maze. It was decorated with warm wooden panels on two sides, and soft greys on opposite walls, adorned with mural lamps shining a diffuse lighting on maroon L-shaped leather couches facing each other and on which rested fluffy white blankets. _ _

__As soon as the door was closed, it seemed like the party suddenly died out, leaving the both of them in a bubble away from the crazies out there. Yuuri had his back facing Viktor still, and he bit the inside of his cheek before turning on his heels to properly meet his gaze._ _

__Viktor’s face looked as tortured as Yuuri felt, and it was only the sudden violent urge to wipe out the worry off his features that prompted Yuuri into taking a step forward and open his mouth, steeling himself into ignoring the terror gripping his guts._ _

__“I should apologize.” _For so many things, I don’t even know what to start with_. _ _

__Viktor’s expression cleared at the words, unmistakably stunned. He had been leaning on the door, his arms crossed around his stomach, and they both dropped to rest listlessly to his sides. He furrowed his brows and Yuuri could see his jaw working furiously as if the words had been stolen away from him._ _

__Yuuri felt the need to speak again before Viktor managed to find them, or else he feared he might never manage to get to it. Out of all the things he wished to apologize for, there was only a few he could actually communicate now._ _

__He couldn’t apologize about hurting Viktor, however unbeknownst to him it was, about not sharing his knowledge of Elena, her actions, and the investigation. He needed to apologize for what he felt he had done wrong and what he knew he should have done when Viktor had been so forthcoming with him and he had been utterly unable to reciprocate._ _

__Before he could get another word out though, his attention was snatched back away from the carpeted floor he’d found his gaze nailed to somehow, when Viktor whispered the most improbable words ever._ _

__“I’m sorry.”_ _

__Yuuri’s breath hitched and his eyes instantly met Viktor’s again, as if their gaze were opposite side of a magnet and he found himself unable to look away._ _

__“What?” he breathed out, entirely disbelieving._ _

__“I’m sorry-“_ _

__“No Viktor,” Yuuri interrupted more forcefully this time. He took a few steps forwards, head shaking. “I’m the one who should apologize! I- I ran away… you were being honest, you tried to explain what had happened and all I could do was hold on to what _I_ had lived … I’m the one who’s sorry…”_ _

__Yuuri saw a few tears forming in the blue eyes despite the softness still coating his features, and he ached to go erase the one that rolled down the alabaster cheek. He did not. He stayed where he was, rooted on the spot and his throat clogged up once again at seeing all the sorrow shining in those blue eyes._ _

__Viktor stayed silent for a few seconds, seemingly processing what Yuuri had said. Yuuri felt compelled to continue, aware he would likely be rambling but he couldn’t simply stare and do nothing anymore._ _

__“You had every right not to want to talk to me yesterday, I’m sorry I insisted, I felt you deserved an apology or at least an explanation and I couldn’t just not try, I thought if I-“_ _

__Viktor’s gaze snapped back up, a frown obscuring his eyes as he interjected, “I didn’t ignore you because you ran away Yuuri.”_ _

__Yuuri was rendered speechless for a few beats once again, the only sound filling the space coming from his own breathing._ _

__“You…didn’t?”_ _

__Viktor swallowed and shook his head slowly. Yuuri watched as he seemed to gather his words and took a deep breath._ _

__“I went to your dad’s office after school that day. I couldn’t find you anywhere after you had left. I ran after you, but you were nowhere to be found,” he explained, and somehow that didn’t make sense at all._ _

__“I didn’t want to leave things that way, so I asked Phichit. I don’t know what you told him about what happened, but he didn’t ask any questions. He simply said you might be at your dad’s office,” he paused and his look seemed far away when he continued. “So I went.”_ _

__He wasn’t looking at Yuuri anymore, and Yuuri had a strange and nasty sense of foreboding._ _

__“You were talking about an investigation,” Viktor went on, and the suddenly painful look on his face was what made the cogs in Yuuri’s mind turn right and he realized where this was going._ _

__After he’d run away and drove straight to the office in search of a distraction… It was the day his dad had told him all about-_ _

__“You were talking about my dad.” Viktor’s voice was like shattered glass. Broken but still painfully sharp and Yuuri winced at all the hurt he heard there, his own heart seizing as the full realization dawned on him._ _

__“About hidden illegal accounts attached to his company, and about human trafficking. About how your dad didn’t want you to spend time with me…” his voice broke, and with it, Yuuri’s heart._ _

__Viktor suddenly looked incredibly small. He had his gaze drawn downwards but his face was still entirely visible, his hair tucked behind his ears, and Yuuri could see with painful clarity that his eyes were full of tears ready to spill over._ _

__Yuuri released a shaky breath, and his mind was reeling… How could Viktor know about this, he hadn’t been there!_ _

__“How do you-,” his voice cracked oh so slightly and he had to clear it before continuing, trying to speak louder, for Viktor didn’t seem to have heard him if the lack of reaction was anything to go by. “How do you know about all of this? I didn’t see you.”_ _

__He was taken aback by the lack of judgement in Viktor’s voice as he replied, and equally shocked by the defeated expression that was coating his face._ _

__“I could hear you talking quite clearly from the door… The one that leads to where your desk is. I heard about the investigation but when you asked about me, I just couldn’t listen anymore and I ran.”_ _

__Yuuri’s blood seemed to freeze in its unrelenting race through his veins, as a fleeting memory gave him the clarity needed to understand the situation._ _

__“The door slammed shut,” he whispered, more to himself than for Viktor’s benefit. “My dad thought it was an airstream because of the open window, but it was you when you left.”_ _

__Viktor shrugged, suggesting he had little opinion on the matter. And he was right, it didn’t change anything for their situation now._ _

__Yuuri closed his eyes as he sighed. He could only very well understand what conclusions Viktor had drawn out of hearing the two of them speak of an investigation he had sworn to him that very same day he had no knowledge about. Well there you have it… He knew it could never stay a secret long._ _

__“Viktor, I…” he trailed off, unable to decide what he could possibly say that would make things better._ _

__“You know, I couldn’t believe my ears at first. It was like the demons my father had placed on me when we were twelve were suddenly blazed alive right in front of me… I was hearing you, with your father, discussing an investigation against my father, accusing him of the vilest of crimes while calmly stating your friendship with me was contingent on all of it.”_ _

__Yuuri stayed silent. He couldn’t have uttered a word even if he had wanted to with how tight his throat was._ _

__Viktor’s face was contorted with a pained expression, a few tears rolling easily and quietly on his cheeks, but his voice was steady now as he pushed forward._ _

__“I could barely think straight at the moment. It was as if the last week or so was suddenly wiped out from my mind, with only my dad’s vicious words ringing in my head left, and the feeling someone had clawed my heart out of my chest all over again,” he explained, gaze nailed to Yuuri’s feet and seemingly unseeing, as if the memory was replaying before his eyes._ _

__“I quickly ran out. I didn’t want to hear any of it. I couldn’t sleep that night, and I paced in my room, replaying every single word of what I had overheard, against every single one of our interactions this week. I had this anguish right here,” he added flashing a look at Yuuri, with his hand just below his ribcage, before dropping his gaze once more. “Because for all intents and purposes, you had been talking about an investigation against my father, and it was so hard to push my father’s hateful manipulations away… But I was still hoping. Still hoping I hadn’t heard right, that there was a better explanation for all of it; that I knew better now; that I knew _you_ better than this._ _

__“But it was still awfully hard to think clearly… I was a hot mess and that’s why I couldn’t talk to you yesterday. For all the conditioning my dad had screamed into me, I just couldn’t let go of the hope I had that it was just this big misunderstanding I couldn’t yet grasp. I couldn’t bring myself to repeat the same mistake I made last time, and destroy what we painfully built over the last week… That’s why I tried to simply avoid you… I needed to give myself time to think it over.”_ _

__Viktor paused, clearing his throat and sniffing softly. He rubbed his hand over each eyes, trying to clear the unrelenting tears away and Yuuri was powerless but to watch him get the weight out of his chest. Seeing Viktor in this state only made the churning in his stomach worse._ _

__When it was clear Viktor was struggling with what he wanted to say, Yuuri took a step forward, rubbing at his eyes to relieve the sting of his own unshed tears.  
“I still don’t understand why you’re sorry,” he started, bringing Viktor’s attention back on him, and Yuuri saw his frame deflate at the next words, as if Yuuri was releasing him from a heavy weight he couldn’t bear anymore. _ _

__“You have every right to be upset by what you heard, especially after what happened in the hallway.”_ _

__It still hurt thinking about it, but somehow, now that he had started talking, hearing himself speak the words was like a soothing balm over the raw memories. Both of them were in this, he didn’t have to struggle alone. He met Viktor’s eyes once more, and he was looking at him expectantly._ _

__“I’ll say it again: I was absolutely not aware of the investigation going on regarding your father’s business back in seventh grade. Anything related to my father’s job back then was way over my head, I only started to help him out around Sophomore year.”_ _

__Now onto the harder part. How to explain an investigation he technically wasn’t supposed to mention? Viktor clearly knew about some of it now, he couldn’t just ignore it altogether._ _

__“This last week, I literally harassed my dad to let me help on one of his big case,” he started carefully trying to think in advance what information he could safely deliver. “He’d been working on it for a while and like always, I was very curious about his progress. As it turns out, it was linked to some of your father’s business.”  
Viktor’s eyes diverted away from Yuuri, before he shut them hard for a moment. _ _

__“I’m sorry Viktor…” he trailed off. How could he explain that despite all the progress they had made this last week, Yuuri had hold on to his fear of being hurt again and hadn’t trusted Viktor to think he might understand? How could he explain he had been doubting him when Viktor had been so honest, trusting him and giving him the benefit of the doubt?_ _

__“My father had been adamant about not divulging any information even remotely related to the case. I had no idea it was even concerning your father when I started asking about it. I didn’t work on it to hurt your family, I swear! I never wanted that… What you told me about your mother…” Yuuri was trading a thin line and keeping his focus when shining blue eyes swimming with unshed tears were dead set on his face wasn’t an easy task. “I was so incredibly sorry you had to live through that, and I’m sorry I couldn’t let go of my own experience to help you go through yours…”_ _

__Viktor was shaking his head firmly and Yuuri paused._ _

__“You were hurt too. I can’t expect you to put your pain aside for the sake of mine. I get why you couldn’t stay after I told you everything,” he explained, the rise and fall of his voice squeezing Yuuri’s heart. Viktor heaved a dry chuckle as he kept on. “I did the same thing yesterday after all.”_ _

__It tugged a strained smile on Yuuri’s lips, but it slowly disappeared as he realized there were still so many explanations he owed Viktor._ _

__“I…also wanted to apologize for doubting you.”_ _

__Viktor’s brow creased in incomprehension, but he patiently waited for Yuuri to keep going._ _

__“Do you remember when you came to talk to me at my house a few days ago?” Viktor nodded. “Well it felt like I’d been slapped.”_ _

__Viktor clearly winced at his tone, and it made Yuuri smile._ _

__“Not in the way you think. You explained that since seventh grade, you had been picturing me in…” he paused, looking for the right words. “…let’s say not so favorable light,” he finished with a grimace and felt compelled to continue at Viktor’s small smile._ _

__“Well I think you should know I did the same… I told you already what happened between us in seventh grade broke me, and the only way I could find to pull myself together was to close myself off and ensure I would never be hurt by anyone again. I had this image of you in my mind… An arrogant, hateful, conceited asshole who’d toyed with my trust and thrown me aside the first chance he got.”_ _

__Yuuri wasn’t looking at Viktor as he explained. He didn’t want to see his face as he explained how he’d portrayed him and if the soft gasp was anything to go by, maybe he was right._ _

__“I realized that perhaps, my perception of you was just as erroneous as yours was of mine. I had started reconsidering my own opinions of you since you came to me for Makkachin. Initially I was so upset about having to spend time with you,” he recalled with a small smile, and looking back up he was met with a raised eyebrow, lips mirroring his own. “It felt like a divine punishment.”_ _

__“And then I started wondering… Because your attitude was sometimes exactly the one I expected, and suddenly you would do something completely unexpected and out of character. As time passed on, I thought, perhaps ‘he’s not so bad’,” Yuuri explained, keeping eye contact to ensure the teasing wasn’t lost in translation.  
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath._ _

__“I was so scared though. After you came to my house, the next day you seemed like a completely different person…”_ _

__Viktor nodded. “I tried to let go of my prejudices. I wanted to see if I had been wrong in my image of you.”_ _

__Yuuri exhaled, shaking his head._ _

__“How could you do it so easily?” he breathed out. “I was terrified that I was letting myself getting tricked again. The memories of what happened were perhaps not as healed up as I had thought they were, and slowly discovering facets of you I hadn’t come to expect confused me to a point that I often wasn’t sure what to think or how to act on it. I didn’t want to get hurt once more, and yet there you were… So different from what I had made myself imagine, so different from the awful person I had made you out to be. I was terrified to hope too much.”_ _

__Viktor observed him for a moment, his face soft and the tears drying on his cheeks._ _

__“It wasn’t easy,” he finally answered. “But like you, I realized that I couldn’t be entirely right in my depiction of you. Ignoring the possibility that I had missed something seemed much harder than taking the risk of being wrong. After my mother left, I quickly learned that the words ‘what’ and ‘if’ side-by-side have the power to haunt you like nothing else can . I didn’t want to wonder ‘What if’ with you. I had a choice,” he paused in contemplation and Yuuri’s lungs felt like they collapsed in on themselves further with every word Viktor was confidently putting out there. “I rather be hurt again, than have to forever wonder if things could go down another path than the one we’ve been on for the last few years if I took the risk to do something about it.”_ _

__Yuuri could feel his voice shake as he managed to speak again. “You chose to trust.” Viktor nodded slowly. “And I couldn’t. I couldn’t choose the right thing-“_ _

__“Don’t.”_ _

__Yuuri nearly jumped at the angry interruption. Viktor’s face had lost all traces of softness and he was facing Yuuri with a hard and determined expression._ _

__“There was no right or wrong choice, Yuuri,” he stated, voice firm and steady. “I never gave you any reason to trust me; why would you?”_ _

__“But- but you did…”_ _

__“You were the one who agreed to help me. I came to you, and you had absolutely no reason to devote time to help me. And yet you still did. You’re the one who made the first step.”_ _

__Despite the certainty in Viktor’s voice, Yuuri wasn’t sure he believed him. This felt like another item to add to the seemingly endless list of guilt he couldn’t seem to shake off._ _

__His head was hung down as he tried to process everything they both have said, trying to come to terms with his feeling of inadequacy – and doing quite a poor job at it. He didn’t notice how Viktor had peeled himself off the door in one smooth movement, and closed the space between them before he was standing not even a step away from him. Yuuri snapped his head up and gasped as Viktor’s arms slid up, and he felt them wrapping around his back, pressing them together._ _

__Yuuri froze, his heart pounding loudly against his ribcage, completely stunned. He felt the reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, or the way Viktor cradled the back of his head and let himself deflate as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him once again. He melted in the warmth, pressing his head in Viktor’s neck without restraining the few tears that broke free quietly. Viktor started petting the back of his head gently up and down, and Yuuri unconsciously tightened their embrace. His heart felt incredibly full, ready to burst, and it only made him want to cry harder._ _

__After a short while, Yuuri shifted subtly as he gathered himself. He still needed to talk to Viktor about Anya. He surely could do that without betraying Elena and his father’s trust, and short of staying by Viktor’s side all night – even if his traitorous brain as always so helpfully reminded him that he wouldn’t mind in the least – there wasn’t much else he could do to ensure Viktor would stay clear of Anya._ _

__Despite being his goal, Yuuri acutely felt the chill hollow that took over the safe warmth of Viktor’s arms as soon as he released their embrace. He swallowed with difficulty, berating himself for how quickly he’d start craving the closeness._ _

__He took a step back, hyper-aware that he was under Viktor’s curious scrutiny and at loss for words. He was about to speak, mouth already open when he was cut short when Viktor spoke first, making the world shift on its axis once again._ _

__“You know… I don’t understand why you were talking about my father, or what this investigation is about, but I’ll wait for you to be ready to tell me.”_ _

__Yuuri snapped his head up, so shocked he could feel his entire face frozen up, eyebrows drawn in and eyes wide, mouth agape. What in the world did that mean? If he had been confused before, he was completely lost now. He could hear his breathing tremble slightly as he tried to make sense of what Viktor had said, without success._ _

__“Why…?” he finally managed to breathe out, to himself or to Viktor, he wasn’t exactly sure._ _

__Viktor seemed to take it for himself because he simple stared at him, seeming puzzled by the question._ _

__“What do you mean ‘why’?”_ _

__Yuuri exhaled deeply in disbelief. “How can you just say that? You told me yourself how painful it was to hear me talk about this, why would you accept it so easily?”_ _

__Viktor’s face was neutral, and he shrugged very slowly, as if he’d talked about the weather and not completely upset Yuuri’s brain’s functioning._ _

__“It was. I mean, I know my father’s not a saint, but the accusations that your father made were serious enough to make me want to go in there and yell at him.”_ _

__Yuuri just stared at him pointedly. He definitely wouldn’t have blamed Viktor had he done exactly what he was suggesting. And yet, as he was telling him something that should have made him want to scream in frustration and anger, Viktor’s voice was calm, almost…accepting._ _

__“But then I remember how irrational he was when my mother left… How loud their fights were before she did leave and how unstable he looked half the time.” Viktor had taken a wistful look, staring into space as he explained his side of the story._ _

__“I don’t know what I believe, or if I accept what you were talking about in the office,” he continued, this time looking at Yuuri, who was still as baffled. “All I know, is that I don’t want to make a mistake I’ll forever regret.”_ _

__“A mistake you’ll regret…” Yuuri repeated stupidly, trying to process what he was being told, looking at the floor and uncomprehending. “But I don’t… how… I mean- why…”_ _

__Viktor was essentially saying he trusted Yuuri more than he did his father. At least enough to allow Yuuri time to explain, and not pressuring him to do so right at this moment, and despite it being on an investigation carrying implications for his entire family. It was an act of faith Yuuri couldn’t comprehend. Viktor had been putting his faith in him all along, despite the distrust they started working with. And now, he was admitting that he could wait for an explanation, even though he knew Yuuri was hiding something, a something far too similar to the something from seventh grade for the connection to be ignored. And still, Viktor was letting him off the hook._ _

__The realization hit Yuuri like a tidal wave. He wanted to scream in frustration, cry until passing out, punch something, anything. He paced a few steps away, his back to Viktor before looking back at him, expression openly distressed._ _

__Damn it! He wanted to confess it all! Tell Viktor everything, and stop carrying the burden of an investigation he should never have asked to know more about. Fucking curiosity! Why in the world had he meddled in this?_ _

__His eyes were stinging, his throat was clogged up and he knew his face betrayed it all. Still Viktor’s expression didn’t change. Soft, accepting, even a little sorry. It made Yuuri want to throw up, disgusted with himself._ _

__“How can you put so much faith in me?” he whispered, his voice rising and falling as he fought the urge to cry._ _

__And Viktor smiled._ _

__“Because I love you.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you see what I mean when I say it's one of my favorites? :3  
> I hope you liked it!
> 
> Stay tuned for the next chapter on Thursday! :D
> 
> P.s: the sentence "the words ‘what’ and ‘if’ side-by-side have the power to haunt you like nothing else can" is directly borrowed from the movie Letters to Juliet; I re-watched it around the time I wrote that chapter and I thought it appropriate :) If you haven't watched it, you should give it a go, its very heartwarming!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your reactions to last chapter filled me with so much joy, I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter!! I absolutely love reading your impressions, thank you! <3
> 
> And here's chapter 25, as promised. I hope you enjoy this one as much as you did the previous one!

Two little boys were sitting on the bank of a large muddy lake, the dark waters shining under the attention of the sun. Sheltered by the cool shades of a large weeping willow in full bloom, they were quiet under the white mist spreading and settling around them when a small breeze tingled its branches. 

Both facing the lake, the silver-head was sitting closer to the edge with his arms circled around his bent knees, his head slightly tilted backwards with a contended smile gracing his soft features as azure blue eyes fell shut. Behind him propped up on his knees, was a smaller, raven-haired boy, expression gentle while his eyes held a focused flame burning hazels as they were trained on his hands, deftly twisting the long silver strands in a loose French braid. 

“Your hair his so soft,” the brunette breathed out not bothering to conceal the awe in his voice as he caressed the loose strands reverently. “It feels like silk…”

The silver-head’s smile grew wider, pink blossoming on his cheeks as he took in the compliment. He was positively beaming, preening under the attention and warm all over as he could feel his best friend’s hands attentively going through his hair, expertly weaving it in shape. 

“Thanks,” Viktor murmured, the smile in his voice just as obvious as the awe in Yuuri’s was. 

They fell in an amicable silence, like they always did, letting the chirping of the birds and the buzzing of the bees settle around them. The air smelled of spring, sweet and effervescent as everything woke up from the stasis of winter. 

Out on the lake, swans were languidly floating around, drawing circles on the surface of the water, ducks diving in and out in a merry, yet faint in the distance, cackling. 

The sun was piercing through the branches, occasionally and lazily swinging around under the breeze, casting light and shades onto the little boys.   
It was peaceful, warm, comfortable. 

Yuuri went through the last few stiches of the braid, holding the ends with one hand as he reached over Viktor’s shoulder with the other, palm up expectantly. Without missing a beat that clearly spoke of habit, Viktor passed the thin elastic back, and Yuuri secured his work in a quick successions of turns. 

He reverently deposited the braid down, reaching mid-back and he proceeded to shuffle around Viktor on his knees. 

“There you go, all done,” he announced proudly, sitting himself next to the other, his legs butterflied in front of him. His eyes followed Viktor’s movements as one leg was dropped to the side and he reached up to touch the top of his head, feeling the weaving there, and softly sliding down to the reach the end, bringing the braid over his shoulder for closer inspection, eyes downcast to admire Yuuri’s work. 

The brunette couldn’t help the smile that transpired in his demeanor and he pressed his lips together in a vain attempt to stop himself from grinning too widely. 

Viktor’s eyes were huge and bubbling with uncontained joy as he stared at the braid, before he looked up to Yuuri’s face, heart-shaped smile proudly displayed before he launched himself at Yuuri, who fell over backwards in a fit of giggles. 

“Thank you Yuuchan! This is the bestest braid ever!” he exclaimed, voice muffled in Yuuri’s neck, who laughed, his arms wrapped around his friend’s back and an adorable blush dusting his cheeks and nose. 

“You said that the last time I braided it Vitya,” he protested half-heartedly, a smile on his lips. “In fact, you say that every time I braid it!”

Viktor hummed, slowly releasing Yuuri from the bear hug and outreaching his hand to tug Yuuri back into a sitting position. 

“That’s because yours are always the best!” he proclaimed easily, sending the powder pink to reach tomato red on Yuuri’s cheeks, and the brunette lowered his eyes, a modest smile turning the corner of his lips up. 

Viktor, quite proud of himself, hugged Yuuri again, more gently this time, not caring to slow down the giddiness coursing through his entire body, a carefree laugh escaping his mouth as he felt Yuuri lean in his embrace. 

“You’re the bestest friend Yuuri! I love you, love you, love you!” he chanted, making Yuuri laugh happily in response, the floral scent wrapping around him in its calm presence, like it always did when Viktor hugged him. 

“Vitya, Yuuchan!”

The pair looked up simultaneously towards the alley surrounding the lake. Mari was standing there, chestnut ponytail over her shoulder, one hand casually slipped in her vest pocket and the other clasped in Yura’s. 

“Come on, Mom said to be back by 4:30 and Yura’s hungry!”

As if on cue, the little blond bent forward a little, as if his scream would be better heard this way: “I want my snack!”

Viktor laughed at the sight, making his brother clench his small fist and glare indignantly at them. Yuuri simply smiled, getting himself out of Viktor’s grasp, taking his hand to prompt him into following as he got up to his feet. Various emotions crossed Viktor’s features, between joy at being offered Yuuri’s hand up and pouting at the notion of leaving the park. Yuuri kept staring at him inquisitively, patiently waiting, until Mari made the decision for him. 

“Hurry up Viktor or you’ll pass on the snack,” the teenager warned and Viktor shot up, an embarrassed blush settling on his face, earning himself a small guffaw from the brunette, the sound not impaired by the hand covering his mouth. 

“Come on Vitya,” he prompted as he walked a few steps, his hand still firmly holding Viktor’s, his mouth stretched into the small but oh so sweet smile Viktor had come to love and look for. 

He relaxed at the sight, comforted by the warmth of their palms together, easily following his best friend back toward their siblings and home. 

***

The world was spinning at a maddening speed, colors blurring and melting together, sounds exploding and crashing. And suddenly it all stopped, as if the speed dropped to slow motion, only to pause on Viktor’s light and impossibly soft smile. All fell still, impossible words swimming in the far distance, too far to be intelligible, like a forgotten memory. 

Yuuri was rooted to the spot, transfixed and he found he had forgotten how to breathe. He opened his mouth and the next gulp of air forcing its way in his lungs with a jerk was almost painful for how tight his chest was. 

Just like that, the trance broke and the world came back to focus with dizzying speed, the words suddenly resonating, loud and clear, in Yuuri’s ears and mind. 

_Because I love you_

Yuuri couldn’t think of what to say. His mind was reeling and his mouth was dry. He could barely focus on breathing, and only could only stare at Viktor who finally dropped his gaze, his lips thinning. 

“I think…I always have,” he murmured softly. A wistful smile claimed his lips as he continued. “I always wanted your attention on me. You always gave it freely, and I couldn’t help but be jealous of anyone else you would give it to.”

His features sobered as he went towards one of the couch behind Yuuri, drawing a large circle around him to cross the room, and Yuuri stood there unmoving. He could practically feel Viktor’s presence around his left side, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around just yet. He needed the safety of having his back facing the other. 

“I didn’t think about it more than that then. Just a kid wanting his best friend’s eyes only on him. After 7th grade, it was as if my world had been brought to ash around me. I didn’t want to believe into what my father was telling me, but the only thing I could focus on was the raw hurt I held deep in my chest. You meant so much to me but my father’s hate made it appear to be a web of lies. I used his words as a mantra and ended up believing them.”

Viktor paused, and the air was stall with the heavy silence. “What I didn’t tell you a few days ago, was why I grew even meaner as we grew up.”

Yuuri could practically hear the wince in his voice. He exhaled deeply, his body unmoving but his head turning towards Viktor who after a moment met his eyes. 

“I told you it was because you started talking back and somehow it fed into my idiotic representation of you.” Yuuri only stared, waiting for him to rectify the truth.   
How could Viktor be so calm talking about this? The small downward twist of the corner of his lips was the only sign of how raw the topic still was. Yuuri had exploded in tears the last time they had talked about it. He made a mental halt as he realized something. Viktor too had been in tears… 

To see him so…serene now felt surreal. 

“I always wanted your eyes on me even if I had convinced myself of the contrary… and then suddenly you stopped even looking at me,” he finally admitted and Yuuri couldn’t help but miss a breath at the admission. He had not expected that to be the reason, and he was having a very hard time reconciling this truth with the rest of the narrative. He remembered when he started toughening up, making himself numb to Viktor’s presence, trying to even forget about it and going as far as pointedly ignoring him altogether by the time they were in 9th grade. 

“Everything was suddenly a flavorless hollow. I felt like an empty shell, realizing that I couldn’t bear losing the attention I had always received from you. I understand now that I desperately wanted to ensure you couldn’t disappear from my life entirely. Being more persistent in the nagging meant you ended up talking back, never one to back down from a challenge so obviously presented to you,” he added with a small, teasing smile that somehow went miles in soothing Yuuri’s turmoil. 

He let himself relax, just a notch, all his focus on Viktor’s words and Yuuri frowned as the other continued. “I went to you as a last resort for Makkachin, and there right in front of my eyes I had the proof from every conceivable angle that I had fooled myself into that cob of lies for years.”

Viktor locked his eyes with Yuuri once more. “That’s why I went to your house that night. I _needed_ to take the risk of finding out if I was right to continue on the same path, or if perhaps, I had missed something.”

He smiled brightly and Yuuri’s stomach lurched at the sight. “I’m glad I did.”

The words settled down around Yuuri, and he suddenly felt giddy all over, something warm pleasantly curling in his chest. On impulse, Yuuri made a step forward, with barely the hint of a smile playing on his lips. 

“Viktor, I-“ 

They both jumped as his phone rang in the quiet of the room. They both kept still until the buzzing stopped, Yuuri throwing an apologetic glance at Viktor who simply smiled, sending shivers down Yuuri’s spine. Despite recognizing Phichit’s ringtone, he tried not to pay attention, despite the warmth slowly being replaced by a cold foreboding about the reason of Phichit’s call. He ignored the phone, waiting a few seconds hoping that it wouldn’t be anything important. As Yuuri deeply exhaled through his mouth, readying himself to try and speak again, his phone interrupted again, making the air leave his lungs.

Phichit wouldn’t insist unless it was important. Greeting his teeth, and closing his eyes in frustration at the impossibly bad timing, he leveled his eyes with Viktor, shaking his head apologetically. 

“I’m really sorry,” he breathed out, though yet unmoving unsure how Viktor was taking the interruption. 

“Maybe you should take that,” Viktor prompted, a nod in the direction of Yuuri’s pocket where his phone was still ringing. 

Emboldened by the complete lack of annoyance in either Viktor’s tone or face, Yuuri’s expression relaxed in momentary – very momentary – relief, quickly dispersed by the conviction Phichit was calling about Anya. 

Wiser of his last experience trying to take his phone out of his insanely tight jeans, he’d tucked it in his back pocket before climbing up the stairs to Viktor and he took it out without much difficulty this time. 

Unsurprisingly, Phichit’s name was lighting up the screen and Yuuri picked up right before it went to voicemail. 

“Finally! Sorry to interrupt, but Anya got here like ten minutes ago.” Phichit’s voice sounded hurried and it didn’t sit well with Yuuri. 

He tried not work himself up, and replied calmly. “Do you know where she is?”

The sharp inhale on the other side only aggravated his suspicion, and he looked up at Viktor, who was studying him questioningly, a slight frown obscuring his eyes. 

“I think she went upstairs…”

Yuuri breathed out through clenched teeth. 

“Thanks Phich.” He disconnected the call, eyes downcast for only a second before looking at Viktor. 

Yuuri felt like someone had just unceremoniously poured an ice-bucket over his head. 

“I need to tell you something,” he started, unsure about how his next words would be welcomed. His jaw worked furiously for a brief instant, before he shut his eyes tightly. Better rip the bandage off quickly. He’d rather warn Viktor before Anya spread her venom. 

Viktor’s face was weary and Yuuri didn’t blame him. 

“Viktor, do you remember when Anya came up to us in the hallway?” he asked. He saw how those blue eyes immediately lost their sparks in hardened steel. Viktor tightened his jaw and nodded. “You told me she’d been nagging you for a while right?”

Viktor diverted his eyes, visibly having a hard time controlling the reluctance at broaching this topic. Yuuri felt a distinct pang of guilt hit his guts once more, at pulling them both away from what Viktor had been telling him, and what he desperately felt he needed to answer to. 

He hated it, but he was out of other options. He patiently waited for Viktor to gather his words, keeping his eyes on him as Viktor walked a few steps away before turning back, slowly lifting his head to meet Yuuri’s eyes. 

“Yeah, she has. She was never nice to begin with mind you,” he said with a sarcastic edge to his voice and Yuuri gave a small sideway nod in agreement. “Our dads were business partners a while ago, and she used to be jealous I think. She would always annoy Yura, chasing him in the house or pretending to play with him and do his hair, only to braid it extra tight and hard. He would always come to me crying, and I wasn’t exactly diplomatic as a child. We fought a lot, until it stopped around 8th or 9th grade, and we just ignored each other. I started noticing hostile glares a few months ago only, and then this week she’s been particularly despicable.”

“Why do you ask?” Viktor asked after a moment, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in question. Yuuri wasn’t looking directly at him. He had been listening intently, each word confirming Elena’s say and his own suspicions. 

The door burst open just as Yuuri was about to answer as truthfully as he could. He froze, eyes widening as Anya appeared at the entrance. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he spat out under his breath. In the corner of his eye, he saw Viktor take a step back, shock edged over his face. 

Anya smiled. A predatory, self-satisfied, and nasty smile sketched on her lips as her eyes darted from one to the other. Her posture relaxed as she rested her weight on one hip, head tilting to the side and it was all Yuuri could do not to roll his eyes, gritting his teeth once more instead. 

His attention was pulled over at Viktor as he spat angrily. “What do you want?” 

She sneered, with a patronizing expression as she looked him over up and down like he was some sort of merchandise. It irked Yuuri to no end, but he kept his mouth shut, waiting for her to say what was clearly on the tip of her tongue. 

“I’m surprised you even have to ask, Vitya,” she stated, her voice dripping sickly sweet sarcasm. Yuuri’s eyes widened at the nickname a few people had only ever used, and he saw Viktor flinch violently. 

Color rose to Viktor. “Don’t call me that!” he snarled, his voice hard and his fists tightly clenched. 

It didn’t escape Yuuri how Viktor was shaking, anger clearly rising and it was a far cry from his serene and soft demeanor mere instants before. 

“Isn’t that what your mother used to call you before she left?” she kept on, her hand going to rest on her hip, and pointedly emphasizing the last word. 

Yuuri released a breath at her words. _What a bitch…_ So that’s what she was after… Using Viktor’s mother to keep the wound open relentlessly seemed to be her favored method. It reignited Yuuri’s guilt and shame at not sharing what he knew with Viktor, but he squashed it down. 

“Shut up, you have no right!” Viktor seethed, obviously struggling with angry tears beading at the corner of his eyes. It ripped Yuuri’s heart to see it, but he couldn’t dwell on it as she continued. 

“Oh but I do.”

Yuuri’s eyes snapped to her face, eyes wide. She wasn’t looking at him, her entire attention solely focused on Viktor, anger and desperation fighting to take over his features. Her voice had hardened, and came out cold as ice, sharp as steel, and dripping with uncontained animosity. She’d dropped the act, smile off her lips as they were now tightly closed together, glaring at the silver-head. 

A breathe escaped from Viktor’s lips in surprise, before he managed to control himself once more, the glower in his eyes betrayed only by the pained grimace his expression had morphed into. 

“You just always seem to have it all don’t you?” 

The atmosphere reigning in the room was electric, a storm growing and her words were as violent as thunder. 

“You’re just a stupid and spoiled boy, always whining about how miserable you are, isn’t that right?” she vented. 

Viktor scoffed disbelievingly, but it was clear as day to Yuuri’s ears, that he was having a hard time containing his hurt at the words, far too resembling to what his father used to yell at him. If Anya’s expression was anything to go by, it was obvious for her too, despite probably not knowing where it came from. 

“What are you on about? I never complained to anyone, much less to you, about anything!”

Anya didn’t waiver, eyes unblinking and cutting. “You’re too self-centered and egoistical to even notice that you’re not the only one suffering,” she spat, making both Viktor and Yuuri flinch. 

He knew she was only accusing Viktor of such things because she was consumed by her own grievances, but it didn’t stop his mind reeling. 

After everything Yuuri had learned of Viktor since reconnecting, Yuuri had a moment of incomprehension, confused as to how anyone could think Viktor self-centered or egoistical enough not to notice someone else’s pain. As for him however, it hit a little too close to home after behaving exactly like Anya was describing towards Viktor since they’d both ended up in this mess. 

“And you,” she turned to Yuuri who met her eyes straight on. “How can you even stand to be next to him? After everything he put you through. He pushed you away, he insulted you, he belittled you… Essentially bullying you for years despite claiming to be your best friend, and you… you just forgive him, working with you to find his precious dog.” She all but spat the last two words with a disgusted twist to her mouth. 

Yuuri saw how Viktor deflated, drawing in on himself at each verbal attack she made. Despite the pain momentarily squeezing his guts at hearing her retell the tale in such a way, a violent wave of anger quickly washed over him. Hearing her speak so of what had happened to them was the very definition of wrong. It was hard enough for both of them to try and come to terms with it, they didn’t need this bitch to add onto it. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he breathed out, his voice low but promising explosion. She clearly caught on his tone, and her lips thinned, nostrils flaring. 

“So you _are_ just as stupid as he is,” she snarled. "I thought you were smarter than that Katsuki. In fact, you probably are for finding that disgusting mutt in time, but apparently you’ve got trouble seeing the obvious when it comes to this airhead moron. Then again, you always have haven’t you?” she added rhetorically, but Yuuri couldn’t help but have his eyes widen at the truth he recognized in the words. “Regardless, let me give you a piece of advice,” she stepped forward, her face tilted down but her eyes sharply set on Yuuri. “You should stay out of this. This is between Viktor and I, and you have no part in it so _back off_ ,” she said, hammering her words forcefully. 

“As for you,” she turned to Viktor. “You disgust me. I’ll make sure to remind you that if that’s the last thing I do.”

With that she swirled around and slammed the door behind her. 

Yuuri sighed forcefully at that, deflating as the tension seemed to vanish with her departure. Only when he turned toward Viktor did he realize how wrong he was. 

Facing halfway away from Yuuri, he looked frantic, anger and pain warring a losing battle on his face, and Yuuri could see clear as day how he was processing everything Anya had just said. 

“Viktor-“

“What was that Yuuri?” he all be yelled as he spun on his heels, hair swirling around him, taking Yuuri completely by surprise and rendering him speechless. 

“What was she talking about?” he pressed again, eyes damp with tears, but his expression raging. Yuuri opened his mouth, jaw working furiously but the angry blazing in Viktor’s gaze was enough to make all his words disappear. This wasn’t how he wanted this conversation to happen. He wished he could have explained it all to Viktor when he was calm and composed; not after Anya had basically threw gasoline and torched him in her spite. 

“Answer me! You know something don’t you? How do you explain asking about her right before she bursts in here, huh?” His tone was edging on desperate now, and it snapped Yuuri out of his trance. 

“Yes! Yes I do know something,” he exclaimed as fresh tears rolled down Viktor’s cheeks. “Please calm down.” 

“Calm down? Calm down?” he cried disbelievingly. “How can you ask me to calm down after what she said?”

“I know, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you if you keep yelling at me,” Yuuri amended, both hands raised in a pacifying manner. Viktor grimaced, losing the battle against the hurt, sadness, frustration all rolled into one, and rubbed his eyes angrily. 

“I’ve just figured it out, but I think I know why she’s been so mean to you recently,” Yuuri started, unsure as to where his explanation was going to lead him. He knew he needed to be careful about not revealing anything about Elena, but it appeared increasingly difficult as he measured how desperate Viktor looked, and how frazzled himself felt over the whole ordeal. Viktor was looking expectantly at him, despite the pain-ridden, heavy lidded gaze he was addressing him. 

“I visited Hans two days ago at the station. I suspected something wasn’t right about Makka’s kidnapping and I wanted to check facts with him.”

Viktor stared. “Why didn’t you ask me to come with?” he whispered, and Yuuri flinched at the hurt in his tone as it settled unpleasantly in Yuuri’s stomach. 

“It was…yesterday, when we weren’t…hum, talking. And even if that hadn’t been the case, I probably wouldn’t have asked you because I didn’t want to put you in this situation: I had no idea if my suspicions were correct, and I just wanted you to enjoy being back with Makka,” he explained as best he could and he had to refrain from sighing in relief as Viktor seemed to accept his reasons. 

He did sigh to brace himself for the reaction his next words were definitely going to have on the other however.

“She was the one who orchestrated Makka’s kidnapping.”

Viktor’s eyes snapped at him, and Yuuri almost took a step backwards at all the rage he saw flaring up again. “What?” he hissed. 

“You said both your fathers were business partners; I’m sure you know they’ve recently been getting back into various agreements, right?” he rushed out, desperately trying to explain it all before the explosion he saw bubbling in Viktor’s entire frame set off. He was fine, that information was public. He had to trade with information they both knew, he couldn’t give out too much. “What I don’t think you know, is that they ceased all activities together because of the investigation going on several years ago about your father. I can’t tell you all the details, but I know you’ve heard about the suspicions of trafficking in your father’s company.” He tried not wincing at the sight of Viktor’s jaw tightening at the words. This was the very definition of worst timing to reveal all of this… “Unsurprisingly, the investigation unveiled facts about both of their dealings to each other, and it seemed your father had wronged Anya’s father significantly enough for him to be in trouble… back home.” 

From the brief frown of confusion, followed by contained horror in Viktor’s eyes, it was enough for Yuuri to understand he didn’t need to specify what he meant by home. 

“You can imagine the unwanted attention he must have gotten because of this. Do you remember about the accident several years ago on Maizuru brigde?” 

Yuuri held his breath waiting for Viktor to answer. It looked like curiosity had dampened down his anger, but Yuuri held no doubt that he could still be ready to burst any second. He nodded after a moment of thinking, albeit stiffly, and Yuuri kept on. 

“It wasn’t an accident. Anya’s mother deliberately threw her car off the bridge because she couldn’t handle the repercussions of the investigation on their family. She’s been in a coma ever since.”

Viktor’s eyes widened beneath his frown. 

“I think Anya’s always been jealous of you, and that the recent reconciliation between your dads set her off. I think she’s blaming you for what the situation your dad put her and her family through. Or more like your dad, but she’s taking it out on you for some reason… I don’t know why she’s picking on you specifically; I’m guessing she’s just irrationally scapegoating you, building on her jealousy, for what happened to her mother.”

The tension had skyrocketed and Yuuri was barely breathing, waiting for Viktor to react, as he finished his explanation. He kept his eyes strained on the silver-head, and he grimaced at all the conflicting emotions he saw pass unfiltered on his face. 

Eventually, Viktor huffed, looking skywards, clearly unable to wrap his mind around what Yuuri had just revealed. Yuuri couldn’t blame him, and in fact had an accurate understanding of what Viktor was going through. It didn’t make him feel any better, if anything it made it all worse because despite knowing it wasn’t exactly his fault, being the messenger of bad news made him feel responsible for the state said news had put Viktor in. 

He lowered his eyes to the carpet, ears still painfully attuned to the sniffling coming from Viktor, who had turned to face the opposite wall, both his hands on his hips and his head tilted upwards. 

“That’s what you wanted to explain earlier,” he finally heard Viktor say, not quite a question, and he lifted his head, meeting Viktor’s slowly turning frame, and he met his eyes, still glimmering with now unshed tears. 

Yuuri swallowed and nodded voicelessly. Viktor seemed to take in his answer, and he was left to wonder what he was thinking. 

“Thanks.”

“Huh?” 

Yuuri stared at him disbelievingly, mouth slightly agape. 

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he finally managed to protest. “The only reason I came to the party was to try and make sure you guys wouldn’t end up meeting up… I don’t know what she has in mind, but she clearly is obsessed with tormenting you in one way or another. I didn’t want you to have to face that,” he explained as best he could and sighed dejectedly before adding, “she found you though, so I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry you had to listen to that.”

It was Viktor’s turn to stare at him at the end of his tirade and he couldn’t help but self-consciously look around, before meeting his eyes again. “What?”

Viktor blinked and passed his hand over his cheeks to erase the remnants of tears, as he shook his head. 

“Nothing,” he muttered, entirely unconvincingly, and he continued as he noticed Yuuri’s raised eyebrow. “I just…You didn’t have to. Come here just for that; so thank you for that too… See, I did have something to thank you for in the end,” he concluded with a teary smile that absolutely did not reach his eyes and Yuuri’s heart felt painfully squizzed at the sight. 

Why did Viktor have to try so hard to alleviate the situation after the scene Anya made? It almost hurt more than the tears earlier. 

Yuuri diverted his eyes, before taking a step forwards and nudging his hand towards the door. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Viktor sighed deeply and didn’t move for a few moments, before closing the gap between them and following Yuuri. Yuuri came to a halt as he realized he’s forgotten something. Quite important something, actually. 

“Viktor,” he started not quite looking at him, earning a questioning hum in reply. “Please, don’t go after Anya.” 

He cursed himself at the almost questioning tone of his voice, and doubly so as he was met with deafening silence. A week and a half wasn’t that long of a time to figure someone out, but despite it all, it seemed to Yuuri that he understood more of Viktor than he had in years. If he was anything like Yuuri thought he was, Viktor would want explanations straight from Anya. He wouldn’t be satisfied with half-baked suspicions about why she’d been essentially bullying him for the last few weeks if not months, and whether or not she did orchestrate Makka’s kidnapping. 

Even if Yuuri did understand the reasoning – _Hypocrite, you more than understand, you’d do the exact same bloody thing_ –, the last thing he wanted was Viktor seeking to put himself in her path. Before he figured out her involvement in Makka’s disappearance, he would have judged her like the classic example of high school bully, spurred by jealousy and the need to exist through belittling others around. But the length she obviously went to in order to make Viktor suffer didn’t sit well with Yuuri’s peace of mind. She was volatile, unpredictable and obviously not done. Might as well not provoke her. 

“Viktor?” he asked again, hand on the door knob, and starting to feel antsy at the silence. He heard Viktor take a sharp inhale, and he tried looking to the corner of his eyes as he waited. 

“Fine, I won’t.”

Yuuri turned to him this time, frowning. He didn’t like the half heartened response he’d been given. 

“I’m serious Viktor. I don’t want you to end up at the wrong end of her revenge or whatever it is she’s after. If she was willing to go as far as to take Makka away from you, I don’t want to have to imagine what else she might think of to hurt you.”

Viktor had his eyes downcast, nailed to the floor and Yuuri blinked furiously, trying to figure out whether he was taking in his warnings. Viktor finally looked up, his head not quite upwards. 

“I know,” he said, voice steadier and full of confidence. “I promise I won’t seek her out.” 

Yuuri stared intently in his blue eyes, searching their depth and trying to find any trace of lie. Satisfied when he couldn’t find any, although he wasn’t fully reassured, he nodded silently and turned back around, opening the door to allow them outside. 

The uproar of the music wrapped them again, just as heavy as the silence back in the room, and pounding in their ears and so loud it was making the walls almost shake. The contrast with the quiet of earlier made it feel like it had all been a dream. 

Viktor fell into step behind Yuuri, until they reached the stairs. Upon descending on the last flight of stairs after the landing, Yuuri noticed in the corner of his eye that Viktor stopped moving. He turned to face him, a questioning look on his face. 

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asked, and immediately wanted to slap himself. Of course he wasn’t alright! Anya coming in and fucking everything up like that… Right after Viktor…– Yuuri made a mental halt, fighting himself on trying to not think about what Viktor had confessed. Bitter-sweetness filled him at the sole mention of it, and he couldn’t afford getting distracted now. 

Viktor looked up, eyebrows drawn in in clear distress. He nodded slowly, and Yuuri felt himself deflate at the defeated air oozing from Viktor’s frame. He threw a glance behind his shoulder, eyeing the crowd down below. At first glance, it would have seemed like it had cleared out while they were upstairs, and then Yuuri realized that there was just as many people, but the majority were passed out here and there, or unmoving from their make-out corner. 

He couldn’t help the disapproving raise of eyebrow at the sight, before refocusing on more pressing matters. 

“Come on,” he said once more, this time his hand reaching forward to touch Viktor’s wrist. He didn’t dwell on the flinch he received, and slid his hand into Viktor’s palm, gently tugging him forward. 

They descended the stairs, and Yuuri made his way with purpose over to where he remembered the kitchen being. Viktor followed without complaint. 

The kitchen was dirtier than it’d been when Yuuri first stumbled upon it, cups overflowing out of the trash bags, spilling the remnants of their contains on the tile floors. Yuuri made a disgusted groan at the sight but overlooked it quickly. Focusing on his movements, he strode to the different cabinets hanging above the counters, to find a glass after he couldn’t spot any clean cups. Throwing a glance behind his shoulder again, he spotted Viktor leaning his hips on the island counter, arms crossed and a contemplating expression on his face. It was a far cry from the distress earlier, this blank mask and dead look in his eyes, and it took Yuuri by surprise, his hands stopping centimeters away from the tap. 

As much as he hated the pain and distress that seemed to distort Viktor’s face far too often for Yuuri’s tastes, this he hated more. Viktor looked exactly like he’d described himself earlier. A hollow shell going on listlessly, forgetting how to live and merely existing. He pursed his lips, scowling and went back to the sink, opening the tap with perhaps a tad too much strength if the plaintive thud from the tap and the small surprised sound from Viktor were anything to go by. 

He ignored it, filling the glass instead and swiveling around – without losing a single drop mind you – handing it over to Viktor with a vigorous move. Viktor’s eyebrows shot up and down, gaze flickering between Yuuri’s face and the glass, before he finally took it with the faintest hint of a smile. 

Yuuri watched as Viktor drank. His eyes were still puffy and red, and the tear tracks on his cheeks were painfully obvious. Yuuri didn’t say anything about it and he simply waited, his mind thankfully blank for once. It was like it had gone into overdrive, and fuses blown, and he couldn’t do anything but go through basic motions until it rebooted. The emotional overload would do that to you. 

He lifted his eyebrows expectantly when Viktor spoke again, voice not as wavering as Yuuri would have thought. 

“Could you… Would you mind getting Chris for me?”

Yuuri registered the question, and no later than a second after the words had left Viktor’s mouth he was nodding, and ready to go get their friend. 

“Yes sure,” he answered readily. “You stay here ok? It’ll be easier to find you once I get him.” 

Viktor nodded, still looking at Yuuri. 

“Okay,” Yuuri said as he turned around towards the window doors and found himself back outside once again, air chillier than he remembered it being earlier, and definitely more crowded than it used to be for some reason. 

As he made his way across the terrace, he started as Phichit suddenly appeared before him, winded and a little frantic.

“Yuuri! Oh my God, what happened?! I’m so sorry I couldn’t call you earlier! Chris told me she arrived, and she was already upstairs by then, I’m so sorry!”

Yuuri blinked several times, mouth open as he tried to refocus his attention away from the shock of having his best friend jump on him, to try and understand what exactly he was saying. 

“It’s ok Phichit, it’s really not your fault,” he finally managed to say, his hand squeezing Phichit’s upper arm when he noticed the upset grimace coating his face.   
Phichit swallowed, his eyes strained on Yuuri, face expectant. It took a few seconds for Yuuri to catch on the fact he didn’t answer his question. 

“Oh, hum, she was a bitch, as expected. I don’t know how she found us so quickly, with the house being so huge. Viktor was pretty shaken,” he trailed off, eyes downcast and he couldn’t help the wince as Viktor’s expression came back to the forefront of his mind. 

“Where is he now?” 

Yuuri looked back up before answering. “In the kitchen. I gave him a glass of water, and he asked me to get Chris.”

Phichit nodded in understanding. “I’ll help you find him.”

A small smile curled on Yuuri’s lips, and he nodded, before following his friend in meandering through the crowd. 

“You know, now that I think about it, it’d be nice to be able to go to a party without the drama package associated with it,” Phichit mused when they finished surrounding the pool in search of Chris. 

Yuuri sent him a look. “Don’t exaggerate, it was never that bad,” he protested, glancing back around them to try and spot Chris’s curly blond head. 

“Oh yes it was. Once you lost your wallet and we looked for it for four hours until you realized you left it at home. You also snapped your ankle at Minami’s birthday party because you thought trying on Mari’s heels was a good idea–” 

“I was ten...”

“–then there was that time when you got so drunk you strip teased and danced on that pole–” 

“Can we please stop mentioning this?” Yuuri grumbled under his breath. 

“–another time, that girl tried to kiss you and you pushed her hard enough she stumbled and fell–” 

“She had a boyfriend! On the rugby team! I’m not suicidal, thank you very much.”

“–oh also, you jumped in the fountain of the mall half-naked pretended you were a kraken before going to Mila’s party, cause you took too many anxiety meds!”

Yuuri’s face had been steadily falling at each anecdote, until he was glaring at Phichit full force. Phichit was only smiling softly, and Yuuri’s face cleared up in realization. 

“You’re trying to distract me aren’t you?”

“Is it working?” his friend answered, a half-sweet half-impish smile on his face. 

Yuuri answered the smile, shaking his head. “Maybe…”

He was still rattled by what had just happened. But having this one thing to do, to potentially make things better, was like a lifeline in the tempest of thoughts and emotions that was still raging full force in his head. He couldn’t do much, but this he could. 

“Did you manage to clear the air a little? About what he told you in the hallway and stuff?” Phichit asked quietly, as if he was afraid he would push Yuuri too much if he talked any louder. 

“Hum, yes we did.” 

_Because I love you_.

Yuuri swallowed with difficulty. The lump in his throat would prevent any other words to come out in a steady voice, and he chose to keep it at that. Phichit seemed to understand, and didn’t press. 

As they came towards the end of the room, Yuuri finally spotted Chris sitting in a couch and talking with Emil, while Seung-Gil sat not too far, definitely not in his element but listening to the conversation nonetheless. 

“Over there,” Yuuri announced, his arm automatically reaching over and Phichit turned his head as his stomach bumped in Yuuri’s arm. 

Yuuri was already striding over the small group, and it was Emil who saw them approaching first. 

“Oh Yuuri you came! I think Viktor was looking for you,” he greeted cheerily with the big smile he always sported. 

Yuuri dryly hummed in acknowledgement, attempting a smile that came out as, in the best case scenario, strained if Chris expression was anything to go by. If anyone else mentioned Viktor’s attempt to get a hold on him tonight, Yuuri was sure to lose it. 

“Yeah I know, I talked to him,” he said, trying his very best not to sound anything but neutral, and carefully kept his expression schooled as he met Chris curious eyes. “He was actually looking for you.”

Chris frowned, clearly confused. “I saw him like five minutes ago,” he started, tone uncertain. 

“What?” 

“Yeah, I crossed path with him in the entrance hall right before I came here. He said he wanted to go home to rest,” Chris continued. Yuuri widened his eyes at his words, and Chris noticed because his voice became increasingly wary as he explained. “I asked if he had talked to you.”

Chris paused, looking expectantly at Yuuri, who could only stare, waiting for him to finish. 

“He said he did, but that he didn’t feel up to talk right now. That I could ask you if I wanted to know right away.”

All the air escaped Yuuri’s lungs as Chris finished his explanations. His mouth had fallen open, brows creased together in consideration and his breathing was a little heavier than he would have liked. 

“Yuuri?” 

He turned to Phichit, who had rested his hand on his forearm, eyeing him with concern. 

“I left him in the kitchen,” Yuuri said to no one in particular before looking back up at Chris. “He asked me to look for you. Something happened,” he paused, unsure whether it was a good idea to go into details with what occurred with Anya. _Screw this._ “Anya found us when we were talking, and she got incredibly mean to Viktor…”

“Again?” Chris hissed, face hard. Yuuri nodded slowly with a grimace. “That’s why we were in the kitchen, I just thought a glass of water could help, I don’t… anyway, I asked him to stay put, why would he leave?”

Before anyone could answer, Emil spoke up. 

“Anya’s really been a bitch recently,” he mused. “I’m glad I don’t share many classes with her.”

“I do,” Seung-Gil chimed in, turning to Yuuri. “She’s really been giving crap to Viktor recently.”

Yuuri could only stare at him, very surprised he would notice this, especially since the both of them weren’t exactly the best of friends. It didn’t appease his worries over why Viktor had left, a cold sweat down his spine making him shiver. Taking out his phone, he gritted his teeth as he didn’t see any notifications, realizing Viktor might not have his phone. He would have contacted Chris directly if he had, wouldn’t he? 

Seung-Gil and Emil had been exchanging more Anya-related-Horror-Stories, Yuuri only absentmindedly hearing what they were saying as he came down to a realization. 

Making a mental halt, and had to focus on not slapping himself. _He_ could have called Chris instead of wandering around a 3 hectares property and leaving Viktor alone after the shitshow earlier. 

“Does Viktor have his phone,” he asked looking up to Chris. 

He looked taken aback by the question for a second, before answering. “Yes he should. He didn’t have it when he jumped in the pool, but when he left he had his keys and phone in hand.”

Not pausing to consider how stupid it was to have left Viktor with his car keys when he had been drinking, he glanced back down to his phone, as if it would carry more answers than it did a few instants earlier. 

Seung-Gil and Emil were still talking, and suddenly Yuuri’s blood froze in his veins. He snapped his head up to Emil, looking at him with a horrified expression that seemed to take him by surprise because he jerked his head back a little. 

“What did you just say?” he rushed, his voice low and surprisingly calm. 

“That I’m glad she left?”

It took exactly zero second for Yuuri’s brain to catch up on exactly what was going on, but two seconds and a half for his mouth to work properly to voice it. Or as properly as he could anyway. 

“She left…” 

Emil looked left and right, uncertainty coating his features. “Yeah…? Like ten or fifteen minutes ago or something?”

Yuuri exhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut and jaw so tight it almost hurt, struggling to control the bubbling anger laced with deep concern settling in his stomach. 

“I’m gonna kill him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts...? :D  
> I hope you enjoyed it and stay tuned for next chapter!! I'll do my best to post it tomorrow, but lots of stuff to do tmr so if time is just running too short, I promise it'll come out Saturday! 
> 
> Side-note: the jumping in the mall's fountain pretending to be a kraken cause of anxiety meds reference is from Juno btw :) Considering Yuuri's track records, I could totally imagine that happening.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooorry I didn't have time to post the chapter yesterday! But at least, less time to wait for the next one I guess, so yay? 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! :D

“I’m gonna kill you, okay?! And I’m too upset to come up with a witty description of how exactly I’m gonna kill you, but I’m just gonna do it, OKAY?!”

Yuuri ferociously ended the call, after he reached voicemail for the billionth time. He had been pacing the front loan aggressively enough that the grass was destroyed in a three meters long lane in front of the house. 

“Yuuri maybe you should-“

“I can’t even be sure where he went!” he exclaimed, swiveling on his feet sharply to face Phichit and Chris, both standing with uncertain expressions at Yuuri’s completely uncontrolled anger. 

Chris glanced between the two brunettes, clearly debating whether he should interrupt or not. “For all we know, maybe he really did go home,” he tried and Yuuri looked at him so sharply that the blond almost winced. 

“After I told him the girl who’s been tormenting him for weeks was the one who kidnapped his dog only to hurt him because she has a grudge over their parents’ business quarrel that ended up impacting her mother’s sanity?”

Both his friends’ eyebrows flew up, mouth agape as they stared at him. Yuuri rolled his eyes, and started pacing again, furiously passing his hand in his hair, before clasping them behind his neck, rubbing it every ten seconds. It faintly registered that maybe he had blabbered a little more than what would have been reasonable but he couldn’t bring himself to care, as rattled as he was. 

_Damn it Viktor!_

“No I’m sure he’s with Anya. They might be at her home, but there’s no way I can be sure because he. isn’t. picking. up!” 

He hated it. This uncertainty. He was supposed to be used to it… This was the very definition of private investigation. Dealing with uncertainty. Yuuri had gotten better at it over the years, brushing off the anxiety associated with it to tackle the task at hand as best he could, focusing on the details he could work out and prioritizing. And besides, taking care of other people’s problems was far more relaxing than having to deal with his own. That didn’t apply in this case, and it was gnawing at him with revenge. When he’d accepted helping Viktor out and hassled his father to know more about the Sulliman case, he’d never had expected it to blow out of such proportions. 

If anyone had tried warning him about the consequences of those choices a mere week and a half ago, he’d have laughed to their face. Sure, Phichit had warned him about the potential implications of letting Viktor get even a tad closer than what they had been so far, but it could never amount to the reality he was forced to face at the moment. 

Viktor was unaccounted for, and Yuuri was terrified. 

Yuuri felt like he was slipping in the depths of an incredibly deep ocean, too deep for any light to reach him, cold enough to freeze him inside out, and desperately gasping for air. He’d been on an emotional roller coaster he hadn’t prepared himself enough for… Couldn’t have prepared himself for in fact. How could he have known any of this would happen? 

He groaned loudly, crouching down to the floor, head bent down and his arms still firmly circling his neck. He was staring at the floor, unseeing, replaying his discussion with Viktor and how the relative calm had shattered as easily as crystal the second Anya came in. 

Tears stung his eyes as a thought gripped tightly to its guts painfully. 

_I didn’t say it back_. 

He coughed, and swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t let things crash around him. He couldn’t allow himself to break now. He had no way of being sure Anya had indeed gone home, and despite what Chris might try to convince him of, the probabilities of Viktor leaving “to go home” without telling _Yuuri_ were about as high as the probability of him failing French. Still staring at the floor and absentmindedly wringing his hands together, Yuuri had to admit that even with his intuition screaming at him Viktor and Anya must be together potentially at Dvornikov Estate, the fact that he didn’t know _for sure_ didn’t sit well with him. 

The perspective of rushing to the other side of town only to realize he had been mistaken wasn’t exactly pleasant. Especially since he had no idea how Anya would react to have Viktor following her, and what she would do. _Or what_ Viktor _would do…_ , he thought wryly with, gazing skywards. 

He exhaled deeply, before bringing his head back down. Regardless of his certitudes, or lack thereof, one thing was certain: he couldn’t stay here without doing something. He was aware of the anxious looks Phichit and Chris shared on multiple occasions since he’d began his nervous and angry pacing, and he was starting to feel crowded. 

Staring ahead for a few seconds, Yuuri slowly got back up, and finally looked to his friends’ expectant faces. 

“I’m gonna go check at Anya’s house.”

Chris’s eyebrows shot up, as he stared with an unflattering surprised expression gracing his features, while Phichit pursed his lips subtly, tilting his head sideways, silently asking Yuuri if he was sure with that course of action. 

Yuuri diverted his gaze for a moment, shaking his head. “I don’t know what else to do. After what happened, there’s no way I can be convinced Viktor isn’t with her,” he said as mean of explanation, trying to sound more assured than even he could fool himself to feel. 

Phichit watched him intently for a few seconds after he finished explaining his shaky reason, before very slowly nodding. Chris glanced between the two brunettes, angry incomprehension having replaced his earlier surprise. 

“Wait,” he exclaimed breathily, eyes finally landing on Yuuri, who tried his best to appear calm. “You can’t just decide on a whim that Viktor’s with Anya and that they’re at the Estate without any sort of proof. Why can you be so sure Viktor really didn’t go home?”

Yuuri had the suspicion that the note of edgy irritation he could distinctly hear in Chris’s tone wasn’t solely due to his decision to check out Anya’s house. He thought back to the last week, and all the times Chris had stared at Viktor with concern, glanced between the two of them as if trying to decipher a complicated puzzle, and all those times he’d helped and tried his best to hide his reluctance at being kept in the dark behind civil understanding. 

Yuuri swallowed at the guilt. 

“He was more than distraught after Anya left,” Yuuri started, ensuring he met Chris’s eyes with an earnest look. If he couldn’t tell him everything, he could at least ensure Chris knew he was being as sincere as he could. “Despite everything, I know him enough that I could guess he’d want to question her. She didn’t leave him the time for that, and even if she had, he wouldn’t have been put together enough to ask her anything. I specifically told him to stay away from her. Can you honestly tell me you believe Viktor wouldn’t go after her in these conditions? Especially since he didn’t tell me he was going home, supposedly, and purposefully waited for me to leave his side.”

Chris’s expression was pinched, as if he had to swallow a very acidic beverage, as he endured Yuuri’s explanation. Yuuri knew he was right. The question was, was he also right about his hunch of the pair being at Anya’s. Chris sighed and put both his hands over his hips dejectedly, detaching his eyes away from Yuuri, looking upset but resigned. 

Yuuri stayed silent for a second, before quickly going through his phone and putting it over his ear. Phichit had silently observed the exchange, judging accurately that it would be better to leave Chris to vent – for lack of a better word – his frustration without hindrance and for Yuuri to use that as an opportunity to not work himself further over the whole ordeal. 

Chris only looked back forward when Yuuri spoke again. “Yuri? Yes sorry to bother you, are you still at the party? Oh you went home? Great, can you tell me if Viktor is home too please? It’s important.”

Yuuri was sure the grumbling could be heard by both other present parties, but they had all grown immune to it long ago. Besides, as long as Yuri did what he was asking, he didn’t particularly care how graceful he was about it. There was shuffling around on the other side of the line, the sound of doors opening and Yuri yelling Viktor’s name for good measure even though he’d already hinted that he didn’t think his brother had come home. Yuuri waited as patiently as he could, biting the inside of his cheek and look up, one hand on his hip. 

Eventually, the blond seemed to bring back the phone over to his ear. “Unless he hid in a closet or something – and Yuuri had to resist the urge of snorting at that one – he’s not home.” More shuffling. “Oh yeah, and his car’s not there so no, definitely not home.”

Yuuri nodded out of habit just as he vocally acknowledged Yuri, thanked him and ended the call. He turned to Chris who seemed to understand without Yuuri having to say anything. “Not home then, I take it.”

Yuuri silently shook his head, simply watching as Chris’s shoulders deflated a little and he dropped his hands off his hips. 

“I’ll go check at Anya’s place. Phichit, would you mind trying to ask around if anyone knows where Viktor went? Just in the chance he actually didn’t follow her, and went to blow off some steam elsewhere.”

Phichit hummed his assent and took his phone out, starting to type before he’d even start looking down at the screen. He was soon engrossed into what he did best, and Yuuri turned to Chris. 

“You might want to try to call Viktor. He didn’t answer when _I_ tried, but nothing says he won’t pick up if he sees it’s you calling,” he explained earnestly.   
Chris snorted. Yuuri pursed his lips, and after a last glance between his two friends, nodded, more to himself than anything. He turned around and took his car keys out, circling the vehicle in purposeful strides. 

“Wait, I wanna come with you.”

Yuuri halted and looked back at Chris, one hand on the door handle. “I’d rather not, Chris.” 

His expression immediately soured again and Yuuri rushed the words out. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea we all go after him. Besides, you have a house full of guests,” he added with a hand gesture to the house now in front of him. 

“He’s my best friend!” he hissed lowly, half-glaring at Yuuri. 

Yuuri stood his ground, ignoring the bile reeling in his stomach. “I know, and I’m sorry that I’ve been a little secretive lately and-“

“A little?” Yuuri’s eyes snapped up at the disbelieving and indignant interruption, and could only stare, mouth slightly agape as Chris finally did let his irritation off his chest. 

“You’ve been trading secrets with Viktor all week Yuuri, and I’m seriously getting sick of being left out. I have no clue what the hell is really going on, but by the looks of you, it’s bad. I know Anya’s a bitch, but you flipped out when you heard she left, and have been acting like a _lunatic_ since. Viktor refused to tell me but the bare minimum, and no amount of prodding could get him to share anything. He didn’t even tell me about Makkachin before you guys found her!”

Yuuri had paled considerably at Chris’ tone. He probably should have expected the other wouldn’t just accept everything at face value for long, especially if it involved Viktor being distressed and Yuuri being mental. 

“I want to know what’s going on,” Chris nearly pleaded, arms going wide before falling back to his sides in defeat. As he continued, Yuuri could see the hurt deep in his eyes, earnest concern oozing in his voice, now quietened. “I want to help. Viktor’s my best friend, and I couldn’t be there for him nearly as much as I wanted to, because I had no idea what the deal was.”

Yuuri brought a hand to his face, rubbing his cheekbone before coming to grasp the back of his neck. He shook his head slowly, regretful expression creeping up on his face. He was more than acutely familiar with the kind of the helplessness that was more than obvious in Chris’s behavior, words and tone. He hated it as much as the other did, but he simply couldn’t picture the notion of Chris accompanying him as a good idea. 

“I’m sorry Chris, this isn’t something I can explain right now,” he started, feeling like he was walking on eggshells, particularly when he got a glimpse of the other’s scowl. “This isn’t just about Viktor, or me. Or even Anya… It’s just,” he trailed off, fully aware that nothing he could come up with would make things better, for either of them. Chris needed answers, Yuuri understood that, and yet he couldn’t give them to him. 

A now familiar, and hated, flash of guilt churned his gut once more. At this point it felt like it was permanently attached to his stomach, occasionally squeezing more forcefully. He didn’t let it cloud his judgement however, and managed to keep his voice firm as he proceeded, infusing enough command to his tone that Chris would know that despite being willing, it wasn’t his decision to make to grant him his wish in divulging the investigation that was still tied to Viktor’s situation right now.

“It’s bigger than any of us, and it’s not up to me to explain it.”

Chris visibly clenched his jaw and it was all Yuuri could do to brace himself for another potential outburst. He couldn’t feel relieved when it didn’t come, because what Chris said instead, felt like an ice bucket being poured over his head. 

“You’re going to have a lot of explaining to do,” Chris stated finally as he stared hard into Yuuri’s eyes, his look hard as ice, and Yuuri’s breath hitched silently as he recognized the same words he had thrown at Elena that very morning. The comparison didn’t sit well with him, and he only barely managed to produce a weak, yet apologetic, smile, blinking a few times as he nodded. 

He opened the car door, and at Phichit’s voice, lifted his eyes right before entering. 

“Be careful Yuu, she’s determined if anything.”

The soft smile and look full of trust Phichit addressed him, appeased Yuuri somewhat, like a soothing balm over an aching scar and he felt a surge of gratitude for his best friend. His smile got subtly wider and he nodded. He went inside and slammed the door shut, igniting the engine and in a few swift moves was out of the parking slot, and descending the street back to town. 

He felt only vaguely better at having an actual destination, but his relief was seriously dampened down by the doubts nagging him. Viktor wasn’t home, but nothing could yet ensure, and reassure Yuuri that Anya hadn’t gone somewhere else than her house or even that Viktor hadn’t suddenly decided to take a drive elsewhere.  
As best he could Yuuri shoved it all to the back of his mind, shutting the whirlwind of thoughts down by focusing on his breathing. The drive was eerie, as Yuuri, on edge, was hyper-aware of the mostly empty roads and streets around him and how important it was that he be right about his hunch. The view changed subtly, urban-scape slowly fading into residential houses surrounded with large and well-tended estates.

As he turned into the last street before Anya’s house, all the tension melted away and he deflated, releasing a full-body sigh upon noticing Viktor’s car parked in front of a metallic fence. 

Yuuri cut the engine, but stayed a couple more minutes, deep breathing slowly and allowing himself to relax some. The corner of his lips curled up somewhat, and he looked skywards grateful that he hadn’t come all the way here for nothing, and lost some precious time to get to Viktor before Anya said anything else meant to aggravate Viktor. Or worse, start blabbering about the investigation. It was still something Yuuri didn’t have a definite opinion on, whether she knew more than what she had let transpired yet. If she was aware of the investigation, Yuuri worried she wouldn’t hesitate to use it to hurt Viktor if the latter pushed her to. She hadn’t seemed to know anything until now, but considering the nature of the information related to this investigation, Yuuri truly hope he wasn’t making erroneous assumptions. 

He blew the air out of his lungs deeply to discard this worrying thread of reasoning, pressing his head to the back of the seat as he steeled himself for the task ahead, namely getting to Viktor. He doubted very much that he would be let in if he knocked politely, and that meant he would have to try and get in by himself.   
He didn’t even know the basic layout of the house, having never been inside. Not knowing what was waiting for him was nerve wracking, but he couldn’t keep stalling much longer. 

Yuuri strained his neck forward to try and have a peek of the house, but couldn’t see through the entrance portal clearly from here, the fence backed up by tall glossy green blocks of sculpted bushes. Clicking his tongue in frustration, he’d just have to wing in and resolved to try and be as inconspicuous as possible. 

He got out of the car, vigorously approaching the metal fence before slowing significantly as he neared the two-door gate, left ajar as if someone hadn’t paid attention in closing it. Yuuri could almost picture Viktor running through them forcefully, pushing them closed behind him all the while hurrying to the house.   
Yuuri cautiously wandered his gaze over the well-kept lawn, adorned by flowerbeds here and there most of which he couldn’t discern well in the night. His eyes followed the sandy riverwalk lane up the gentle hill that led to the house, and he couldn’t help but finding himself gaping at the sight that greeted him. 

The structure was massive, in a style much more resembling the east coast of the country than one would have thought finding in California, the façade in light grey stones, some of it hidden by climbing ivy and pierced with tall arched and bay windows. Two large curved stairs hugged the soft-edge rectangular terrace, leading to the main level of the house . It shone brightly in the contrasted dark background, most lights on both inside and outside, the path illuminated every two meters by small garden lamps. 

He gulped, before shaking his head – and the gobsmacked grimace off his face – and exhaling deeply, he pushed the gate open, not bothering to close it. There wasn’t anyone around, which wasn’t overly surprising considering it must have definitely well past midnight. What had him frowning however, was discovering that all the lights inside the house were still on. Checking his watch wrist quickly, before staring back to the Mansion without slowing his steps, it was indeed surprising to encounter such a sight at nearly 2 in the morning. 

As Yuuri stopped at the bottom of the left stairs, he looked up, the villa standing tall and proud, making him feel incredibly small. Chris’s house was just as massive and just as lavish, but it was warm and inviting. This one however, had an intimidating vibe to it, like an austere Victorian governess compared to an exuberant and cheerful grand-mother. 

Yuuri rubbed his hands together, clenching and unclenching his fists a few times before he endeavored climbing the relatively small steps on the impressive stairs. As the terrace was coming to view, he analytically glanced side to side, trying to figure out where would be the best way to enter.

He reached the top, and that was when he spotted it: a little off from the main terrace area, to his left was a single white door, again left ajar, the warm glow of the light inside spreading in a thin triangle on the large stones. 

Steeling himself, he strode over. He tried to keep his footsteps as silent as possible; the only sounds that reached him being the cicadas down in the garden. With how big this house was, he strongly doubted anyone would hear him approach, but he would very much like not be escorted outside before he had a chance to look for– and better yet, find – Viktor. Pulling the door further to himself, hoping it wouldn’t creak on its hinges, he cautiously advanced his head in the opening, eyes scanning his surroundings as he did so. No one in sight. 

The interior was non-assuming, a small room with bare, pale-crème walls, looking more like a servant corridor than anything. Maybe that’s what it used to be. As Yuuri crossed the space, and reached to an open archway entrance, he realized why. The kitchen was large and luminous, thanks to the large windows taking a large portion of one of the wall. It looked about as big as Chris’s, with the not-so little difference that the space here was absolutely immaculate. The pristine porcelain tiles shining under the warm light almost made Yuuri wary of stepping on them. Shoving the ridiculous thought back in his mind, he glanced between two large archways on adjacent walls, each clearly not leading to the same set of rooms. 

Yuuri winced before scowling. If this place was anything like Chris’ it was sure to be a bloody maze. Looking for Viktor in a house full of people presented its own challenges but at least he could move freely. Or as freely as having to weave his way through a human sea could be. But doing so when he wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place and not even having the slightest idea as to where to begin looking was somewhat harder to conceptualize. 

He exhaled, working his jaw side to side as he pounded over which direction to follow. He started at a sudden noise from out back, deeper within the house. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest, and he closed his mouth, breathing already calming after the small fright, but his attention was now entirely strained towards the right archway. It sounded like something had been shattered forcefully on hard floors. 

Momentarily forgetting the risk of being heard or seen, Yuuri went directly for the archway, which opened up on likely the main entrance hall by the looks of it. Without paying attention to the details beyond the obvious, of this room being another accurate definition of ridiculously large, he tried to follow where he thought the sound had been coming from. He crossed it in purposeful strides, his feet clattering on the dark mahogany wood, before being softened on the plush deep red carpet eating the main space in the center of the room. 

In a matter of seconds, he’d crossed the hall, reached an open door through which he quickly looked through, only to see an elegant, but empty, sitting room. Turning away from the room, he pushed through the adjacent archway. He navigated into a series of rooms he had absolutely no clue the use of, and came to a halt as a heated conversation reached his ears. 

He stood still, straining his head towards a closed door to his right, he stared intently as if the dark wood would suddenly vanish to allow him to see through it. The voices subsided before he could make out the people they belonged to and he stepped forward very slowly and carefully. 

He nearly jumped out of his skin, as the next shout echoed as clearly as if he’d been inside with them.

“Stop the bullshit!”

It was, without the single doubt, Viktor’s voice in there. Yuuri’s feet reacted before he could even really process it, and no later than three seconds later had he slammed the door open, prudence entirely forsaken. 

A little breathless from rushing through the house, the scare and literally jumping on the door, Yuuri took stock of the situation. In what seemed to be a library, tall wooden bookshelves blending in the very walls of the room, Viktor was standing in front of one of the plush burgundy armchair adorning the room. His fists were clenched; his frame was tense and hunched over. Facing him and closer to the wall cased with books, stood Anya, arms crossed and a venomous expression distorting her features. 

It seems his entranced startled the both of them, and Yuuri clearly saw Viktor’s eyes widening as they landed on him, relief and guilt flashing on his face in quick succession. Anya had jumped but she had quickly regained her composure and was now glaring at him. 

Yuuri pursed his lips, breaths still a little heavy. He glanced between the two, before his eyes fell on shattered porcelain on the floor, close enough to Viktor and the table it must have been propped up on, for Yuuri to understand what happened. 

Anya opened her mouth but was cut short by Viktor as he breathily exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” 

Yuuri leveled a glance at him, and breathed out in disbelief as he looked over at Viktor with a stern look, all the fear and anger flaring back up. Viktor seemed to notice his change in demeanor because he winced, and deflated subtly as Yuuri entered in the room further, all his focus on the silver-head. 

“I should be asking _you_ that!” he accused, and Viktor’s face contorted further in a guilty grimace at the edge in Yuuri’s tone. “I specifically told you NOT to seek Anya out, and the first thing you do is go behind my back to do exactly that? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea how worried you made me by running off like that?” Yuuri ignored the way Viktor’s eyes seemed bigger and brighter at the words and pushed on, taking a few additional steps forward. “You can’t just do that, it’s not fair Viktor!” 

“I know, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry… I waited for you but one of her friend made a comment about Anya leaving and I don’t know, I just… I needed answers Yuuri, you can’t expect me to accept everything she said, and everything _you_ said for that matter, at face value… I needed to do something for once instead of standing behind you like a cloth doll…” he finished, his entire body screaming defeat. 

It tugged on Yuuri’s heart and he swallowed unsure as to where to go from there. He closed his eyes for a second. “Viktor,” he sighed but a snarl came from his left and they both looked in Anya’s direction, who had admittedly, been oddly quiet so far. 

“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes with the most disdainful expression Yuuri had seen yet. “Can we stop the drama here. Poor Yuuri was worried about moron Vitya.”  
“Quit calling me that!” 

“No I won’t quit, _Vitya_ ,” she shot back, contempt and poison curling her lips and the grimace coating her face made the nastiness of the inside show up on the outside. “I’m sick of your little princess in distress attitude. I’ve tolerated it long enough already.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows twitched in confusion at the accusation, as Viktor scoffed. 

“What are you on about? You’re the one acting like a spoiled rotten brat. You’ve been coming after me for weeks for no reason at all, and went as far as to _literally kidnap_ my dog just to hurt me. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Anya eyed him up and down, flaring nostrils betraying the calm mask she had tried to put on at Viktor’s retort, a perfectly arched eyebrow leveled at him. 

“You deserve it.”

Viktor shook his head, breathing through his mouth and it was obvious to Yuuri he was trying to contain himself. From the distressed teenager of earlier, the angry Viktor who was taking over now was a far cry, and Yuuri couldn’t help but be a little astonished at the sight. 

Viktor leaned his weight back on his heels and watched Anya’s stiff posture, head shaking. 

“I’m not responsible for my father’s actions,” he finally stated, in a surprisingly calm voice, considering. 

Yuuri blinked at the words. Did Anya accuse Viktor of Anatoly’s actions during their shouting match earlier? This didn’t bode well for Yuuri’s hope regarding Anya’s obliviousness in the Nikiforov Investigation, and the subsequent Suliman Case. He kept his mouth shut though, as Viktor didn’t seem to be done.

“I want to know what the hell you think _I_ did that deserved Makkachin being taken away and… dammit what in the world is wrong with you!”

Anya cocked her head to the side in the gratingly patronizing manner that made Yuuri had the sudden urge to slap her, and neither the mean gleam in her eyes nor the mocking curl of her lips helped her case. 

“You’re as detestable as _he_ is. You’ve been parroting around the school and our social circles like you own them since I don’t care to remember. You’ve always treated me like I was beneath you, encouraging Yuri to do the same…”

Viktor half-scoffed, half-laughed disbelievingly, the bitter edge to it making Yuuri skin crawl as he watched the exchange. 

“You really believe in your own lies don’t you? I’ve never ever believed myself above anyone, and would never encourage Yuri into that direction either. You were the one constantly teasing him, and not in a nice way! How many times have you made him cry over the years?”

She huffed indignantly, releasing her arms and walking a few steps to the side, shaking her head and looking skywards in a dramatic display that had Yuuri’s jaw set to prevent him from interrupting with a scathing remark yet again. And she said it was Viktor acting like a princess in distress, he thought wryly. 

“I’m sick of always coming second,” she hissed dangerously and snapped back towards them, frame distinctly hunched over and fists balled, glaring at them. Yuuri couldn’t help but feel a cold sweat at the display and if Viktor’s small but sharp intake of breath was anything to go by he wasn’t the only one. Anya seemed trapped in a fury and she frankly looked scary. “You’ve got it all Nikiforov, and I’m oh so sick of it! Your father always made sure mine was so beneath him and you felt like perpetuating the tradition, isn’t that right?” 

Yuuri threw a glance to Viktor who looked incredibly confused, and suddenly his face cleared in realization before it darkened, his features quickly hardening and Yuuri felt a cold sweat break down his back at discerning Anatoly in his expression, the day he had threatened him, and he released a sharp breath, blinking the image away. 

“Is that why you took Makkachin?” His tone was low, sharp, and dangerous as he nearly bit the words out. “Because you were _jealous_?” Anya puffed her chest, disgust and loathing curling her lips. “And jealous of what?” He was screaming now. “My mother left years ago without a word, and my dad’s been acting like a lunatic ever since. I haven’t seen him smile in five years,” he scoffed, disdain dripping in his voice, but Yuuri recognized the undertone of hurt. “There’s nothing to be jealous of, you have just as much as I do, so don’t come to me with pretense of me being a spoiled brat when you’re the one acting petty and deem kidnapping a dog to do God knows what is justified to quell your sickening jealousy!”

Utter silence reigned in the room, the temperature seemingly having dropped by several degrees. Viktor was red, frowning and he glared at Anya with a look Yuuri was glad he wasn’t at the receiving end of. 

He looked between the two, the tension so thick it was stomach-turning, like someone was playing with fire in a room full of gun powder, ready to ignite at the minor spark. And sure enough silence suddenly exploded. 

Anya launched herself forward before either boys could react, and her hand threw up, slapping Viktor so harshly that he stumbled a few step with a grunt. Yuuri jumped, mouth opened and eyes wide as he stared completely helpless. 

Anya started pummeling Viktor’s chest hard enough that he stepped back again, but clearly not enough for it to hurt. She was screaming, and sobs started wracking her frame. All of a sudden, she looked incredibly small. 

“My mother has been in a coma that she’ll never wake up from for years! Because. Of. Your. Father! They’re going to unplug her because there’s no brain activity anymore…” she whimpered. “And now my father seemed to have forgotten all about it and just goes back to business with _him_!” Her tears were silent, but her voice was shaking, tremors and sobs breaking her speech as she sniffed and cried. “He’s been a ghost since she jumped, and I’ve been invisible! He’s been ignoring me for as long as I can remember, and the only time he talks to me is to tell me I’m supposed to not bother _you_! And now to top it all, your mother who so shamelessly left years ago is fucking back! It’s not FAIR! You’ve got it all! Even Yuuri seems to have forgiven you for what you did to him! I hate you! It’s not fucking FAIR!”

She stopped pounding on Viktor’s chest at that, the last hit moving them further apart. The room was plunged back into deathly silence, only interrupted by quiet sniffing. 

Shell-shocked, Yuuri could only stare at Anya’s meltdown. She had lost all pretenses, all composure, mask abandoned behind the raw pain that he had conveniently forgot she could feel and that she was currently displaying. He exhaled heavily, before swallowing with a pained expression. 

Here standing in front of them, wasn’t the heartless bitch everyone assumed she was, and that she fantastically portrayed each and every day. Gone was the insufferable and hateful viper that took pleasure in humiliating those she deemed worthy enough to waste her breath on insults.

In her stead, there was a little girl that had tried to carry her pain alone. Here was standing a seventeen year-old girl, whose mother had left too soon, and who had been feeling cast away by her father in favor of who she thought responsible for her life unraveling around her. She was just as vulnerable as Viktor had been, as Yuuri had been. 

They simply hadn’t seen it until now. 

Yuuri bit his lip, eyes downcast to the floor as he pondered over what Anya had said. It didn’t make up for what she had done or who she was. Anya hadn’t been exactly a likable bubble of sweetness, even before this whole mess went down. She had always considered herself superior to those she didn’t even see as peers, and had always acted accordingly. She had wealth and status, and she knew it. Not even what happened to her afterwards could endear her much in Yuuri’s eyes. Her baggage wasn’t so different from Viktor’s after all. Or what Viktor knew of it… A mother that willingly left, one way or another, fathers who seemed to have forgotten they were fathers, and loneliness to deal with it all. 

It didn’t lessen the uneasiness he felt welling up in his stomach as he watched her breakdown. What he was guilty of, was hastily forming a judgement without considering all the pieces of the puzzle. It was forgetting that despite it all, she had the same feelings and struggles as the rest of them, and despite it all, he couldn’t just discard that to paint her solely as a one facet villain. 

Silently, he looked up to Viktor, who looked just as shocked as Yuuri felt, confusion evident in his frozen posture, before disbelief and skepticism, slowly creeping in, twisted his features. Yuuri could only imagine why. Despite having revealed what he thought had been Anya’s motivations back when they were at Chris’s, Viktor had obviously forgotten, and having it all thrown to his face in such a way would have confused anyone. 

It was only when signs of anger began surfacing, his nostrils flaring and his look hardening minutely that horror stroke Yuuri as he realized what part of Anya’s speech must have provoked Viktor’s reactions. 

_your mother who so shamelessly left years ago is fucking back_

He gasped just as Viktor took a step forward; bringing him closer to Anya’s still hunched form. 

“What the fuck are you talking about,” he spat bitterly through clenched teeth. 

Anya looked up at that, all anger replaced by pain overshadowed by confusion at Viktor’s words. Yuuri swallowed and before he could even process what he was doing, he’d taken several steps in their direction. 

“Viktor,” he started, unable to suppress the urgency of his tone and the addressee turned to him, looking dazed as if he had forgotten Yuuri’s presence.

_Oh bloody hell_

What was he supposed to say now? Viktor had turned into a ready-to-explode dynamite, while a quick glance at Anya confirmed him that she had absolutely no clue what that was about. She was drained and not comprehending what was going on around her. Viktor was looking at him expectantly, the surprise of being called nowhere to be seen anymore. His eyes had lost their belligerent spark as they levelled with Yuuri’s, but he seemed just as tense as before. Yuuri was definitely not looking forward to this. 

He sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat. Despite his promise to his father and Elena, how the hell was he supposed to get out of this situation? 

Before he could dwell on his predicament further, the door opposite to him burst open, having them all snap their attention towards it, as it brought the worst possible distraction into the room. 

Yuuri froze instantly, eyes wide as a cold sweat broke down his spine and the inside of his mouth felt like ash as two people made their way into the library.  
“My my… What have we here?”

_Fucking Perfect_ were the only words that came close to describe what Yuuri was now feeling as he stared at the sickly sweet smile plastered on Anatoly Nikiforov’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil laughter* 
> 
> Thoughts....? :3
> 
> Side-note: Anya's house is vaguely inspired by Hatley's castle in Vancouver :)


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the continuing support on this fic, whether it be by leaving kudos, comments or simply reading it! <3 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'll post either two or three chapters this week, so either you'll get the usual Wednesday/Friday, or I'm being mean and the next will be Thursday; I'll see :p

Yuuri could only stare, eyes wild and acutely aware of the effort he had to make to keep his mouth shut, and his breathing somewhat calm as he tried to control his shock. 

This could not have been worse. Despite his focus being entirely cornered by the cold yet pleased figure of Anatoly Nikiforov, he could make out the confusion slithering through the room. Anya’s breathing had turned shallow, whether it was from anger at seeing appear another object of her hatred, relief at her father’s presence right behind Anatoly, or simply incomprehension, Yuuri wasn’t sure. Viktor, on the other hand had staggered one step back, and could only gape at his father like he would a sudden demoniac apparition. 

That wasn’t too far off after all…Yuuri thought wryly, unable to stop himself as he quickly regained his outer composure. He was still mildly panicking inside, his father’s words crashing down around him like alarm bells, pounding echoes in his mind. Anatoly’s presence only meant that he had been meeting with his _business partner_ , but the nearly snarky turn of his lips and the calculating gleam in his eyes was enough for Yuuri to understand that he’d use the silver-platter-handed opportunity to the fullest. 

A swift glance towards him told Yuuri that Andrei Dvornikov had been miles away from expecting anything near the sight he fell upon. He had quickly schooled his features into a neutral expression, but the panicked stupor that crossed his face didn’t go unnoticed and despite the gnawing apprehension, Yuuri couldn’t help but feel faint relief washing over him, at the knowledge that he wasn’t entirely alone in this. If he were to believe Elena’s words and information, Dvornikov had been cooperating with her for some time, at the express order of whoever he worked for, and if anything, this was better than the alternative. 

Before he could settle on his next words, Anatoly took a step forward and Yuuri wasn’t the only one to instinctively tense. 

“Yuuri Katsuki, fancy seeing you again. I wish I could have talked to you again sooner,” he continued with an overly polite tone with edges sharper than a knife’s, extending his arms around himself as he would to greet someone, “but circumstances denied me the pleasure.”

Yuuri stayed silent as he felt the man pierce him with his eyes. He knew they were entering uncharted territory here, but it appeared somehow clear as day, what exactly Anatoly’s motivations were as he continued. 

“May I ask, how is it you find yourself here, of all places, in the company of two persons you, if I remember correctly, loath deeply.” 

Yuuri nearly flinched at the words, but caught himself in time, feeling like the gasp he nearly let out was trapped in his chest. Loathing and Viktor were not things he would ever be able to associate anymore, and the malignant glint burning in the cold blue eyes told him that Anatoly knew it. A cold sweat broke down Yuuri’s spine. He didn’t like this at all…

“What is the meaning of this?” All eyes turned to Dvornikov, except Anatoly who simply clasped his hands together in front of him, glancing from one teenager to the other. 

“Anya why are you crying?” he asked, faint surprise coloring his tone, as he got a better look at his daughter, and she quickly rubbed her hands over her cheeks, just as her father levelled a look at Viktor first, then Yuuri. “And what are you two young men doing in my house?”

No one moved, although Yuuri threw a glance in Viktor’s direction, briefly wondering what he would do. If anything. 

“Oh no matter Andrei,” Anatoly chimed in, aloof, with one hand raised, motioning to his partner to drop the matter. “I believe it’s actually quite good that they _are_ here, don’t you think?”

Yuuri tightened his jaw at the suggestive tone. Dvornikov swiftly looked at his partner, seemingly measuring whatever the other had in mind and the barely noticeable frantic look wasn’t something Yuuri was glad to notice, for it did nothing to alleviate the foreboding he could already feel settling deep in his guts. 

“Anya, go to your room.” 

The girl startled and raised her head to her father, protests on her lips. “But Dad-“

“Now, Anya!” she jumped again, and with the mutinous look that took over her face, Yuuri was sure she would stomp her foot to the floor, but she simply huffed haughtily, transpiring once more in the persona Yuuri knew her for. She swiveled on her heels, leaving the room with theatrics. 

“Quite feisty isn’t she?” Anatoly sneered to no one in particular with an amused raised eyebrow. Dvornikov’s jaw tightened minutely but it was the only sign of his irritation. 

Yuuri breathed as deeply as he could. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Yuuri turned to Viktor, blinking. He had spat the words, and his entire body looked stiff, tension in his shoulders and in the way he was trying very hard not to move.

Anatoly slowly allowed his glance to drift towards where Viktor was standing, as if his intervention was only a mild annoyance rather than an entirely legitimate question from his son. Yuuri’s throat tightened at the patronizing look and he clenched his teeth. One eyebrow raised, Anatoly stared at his son, sizing him up and down. To Viktor’s credit he didn’t flinch, only tightened his fists. 

“You should sit Viktor, this doesn’t concern you.”

The pure disregard coloring his tone sent Yuuri’s mind reeling, and he jumped without thinking. 

“Then let him go,” he cut in, hiding his apprehension under a glare he hoped to be convincing enough. If Yuuri was correct about Anatoly’s intentions, it was him Anatoly needed after all. Viktor knew nothing, surely his father must have known that. 

Yuuri managed to ignore Viktor as the he snapped his head back at him, eyes bulged out. 

Yuuri couldn’t help but blink at the sonorous and cold laugh that met his words, however. He knew the moment he had said them that it would be to no avail. He could curse himself for the mad hope that still managed to blossom in the back of his mind. 

“You must take me for a fool young Katsuki. You’ll be much more compliant if my imbecile of a son stays put,” Anatoly stated, a knowing look in his eyes that had Yuuri take in a sharp breath. Without missing a beat, Anatoly sharply turned to Viktor and glared him down. 

“Anatoly, we’ve talked about this…” Dvornikov intervened, tone clipped with disapprobation that was promptly ignored. 

“Yes we did, and I seem to recall informing you of the urgency to get to the bottom of this,” he drawled, before jerking his head towards his son. “Viktor, sit.” 

Viktor didn’t move.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” Dvornikov retorted heatedly. “You did inform me of this ludicrous ‘urgency’ as you so put it, and _I told you_ , that your actions to ‘get to the bottom of this’ could have very well ended in a disaster.”

“A disaster? It seems we do not share the same definition,” Anatoly shot back imperiously, merely throwing a callous side glance behind his shoulder to his partner, before he added with a complacent upturn of his lips. “Besides, didn’t you share what you discovered in this hotel so that I could take care of it?” 

Only the brief flash of anger told Yuuri that Dvornikov was fuming behind the stoic mask he managed to keep on as he listened to his partner belittling him in such a way. He didn’t move however, and his voice was steady, although his tone was curt. 

“I shared this information because we are working together, Anatoly. We have never made a decision regarding the manner in which we ought to deal with it. You took my non-commitment as if it were carte-blanche and took it upon yourself to embark into this…idiotic attempt of kidnapping at the PI office.”

Yuuri was unsurprised by the not-so-revelations but he was reminded by Viktor’s gasp that he was the only one out of the two of them that was actually aware of what the two men were discussing. It seemed the cogs in Viktor’s mind were furiously working, because Yuuri caught the realization the silver-head came to as it flashed across his face. He threw back a wide-eyed glance to Yuuri, who saw plainly displayed the horror himself had felt when he was hidden in the closet with the two henchmen in the office. 

Yuuri already knew it had been Anatoly’s doing, what with the investigation and their attempt to spy in on them, but having it confirmed and stated so plainly, the matter lying right in front of him like that was enough to make him shudder. It seemed more…real somehow, and the memory of the smothering, cruel and unyielding panic that had taken completely over that day resurfaced back to the forefront of his mind. 

Yuuri met Viktor’s eyes and attempted a smile that was probably closer to a grimace with how sick to his stomach he was feeling since Anatoly had shown up. Viktor winced and inhaled sharply through his nose, maintaining eye contact until both their attention was pulled once again towards the two adults. 

“What would you have done if it had succeeded? Where would it have led you? You were lucky it failed, or we would be dealing with particularly compromising consequences right about now,” Dvornikov stated self-assuredly, stating facts with the evidence of one sure of his information. “Had you kidnapped Katsuki, the entire town would have been out there looking for him, first and foremost the Sherriff. I trust you don’t want a repeat of five years ago,” he made a show of asking and it was then that Yuuri thought of glancing towards Anatoly, who had clenched his fists. 

His entire frame seemed to have frozen, but Yuuri quickly realize that he was in fact, nearly shaking with ire. The cool, stoic mask that took over his features was unnerving enough that Yuuri felt his breath halting for a beat as he watched with rapt, apprehensive attention the exchange. 

Oh so slowly, Anatoly swiveled around in order to face the other man, who only stood stoically, visibly ready to hold his own if the hard, steadfast gleam in his eyes was anything to go by. 

“And what, pray tell, would you have had me do?” 

“Not kidnap a PI that already suspects you!” Dvornikov snapped, and Anatoly scowled.

“What do you suggest then? That we leave them spy on our private business meetings that could have both of us convicted for life, or death as the case may be in some states of this country? Is that your idea of protecting our interests?”

Dvornikov scoffed. “Our interests! Now is the moment you consider it a joint venture rather than using me to your own advantage!”

A dangerous look passed Anatoly’s face, and Yuuri held his breath, a shiver coursing down his spine, as he had to crush the urge to step next to Viktor seeking some sort of comfort. The two teenagers had been staring, powerless to do anything, as the men engaged in a conversation that was steadily heating up enough to be called a dispute. 

The silent that followed Dvornikov’s last words were bleeding tension, and Yuuri had the nasty impression he recognized suspicion flashing in Anatoly’s eyes.

“Tell me my dear friend, why is it that all my propositions to deal with those investigations tailing us have been met with at best disapprobation and at worst blunt refusal?”

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat. The game of tag was over and done with. Dvornikov narrowed his eyes at the innuendo. Neither Anatoly’s words nor his tone could be interpreted as anything but the telltale of his suspicions and the looming of a threat. 

How long had he been speculating in that direction? 

Yuuri swallowed as inconspicuously as possible, realizing that the conversation they just had witnessed was far too compromising to be disclosed in front of two teenagers. For all the secrets Anatoly had surrounded himself with, he was being far too open, and Yuuri had the awful suspicion that it meant one thing: Anatoly wasn’t scared of either of them blabbering any of what they’d just heard. And if that was the case, it didn’t bode well for either of them. 

Despite the fear of what that meant suddenly spiking, Yuuri managed to keep a straight face but he couldn’t very well slow down the hammering in his chest. It was loud enough it was echoing in his ears and Yuuri almost feared everyone present could hear it. 

“I only do so because you dive in without thinking, and it will only get us trouble.”

“Oh is that so?” Anatoly countered Dvornikov feeble defense with a look that told everyone how convinced he was. 

Silence stretched between them, both men regarding each other with a mixture of resentment, suspicion and hostility. 

“Why don’t you leave Andrei?” he finally suggested, his tone polite but clipped and final, a hard glare fixed on his partner. “I need to have a long-overdue conversation with this young man over there,” Anatoly added lifted his eyebrows as if daring Dvornikov to defy him, and turned before the other could even protest, and sparing yet another patronizing look towards his son. 

Viktor squared his shoulders, and stared back defiantly. The sight only drove the air out Yuuri’s lungs, anxiety spiking at the prospect of Viktor opposing his father so openly. 

“Why do you wanna talk to Yuuri?” 

“As I said Viktor, it doesn’t concern you, so I suggest you stop being a bother and sit quietly.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do before you answer my question.”

“I will not answer anything you idiot boy,” the man all but snap, lips curling in disgust. “Sit down before I lose my patience.”

“No.”

Yuuri glanced between the two with wide eyes, growing increasingly worried by the second as he witnessed firsthand the crumbling façade Anatoly had been putting on and Viktor’s stubbornness. Spark of anger flashed through Anatoly’s blue eyes, and it seemed like Viktor noticed because he took an instinctive step back. 

“Sit. Down. Now, Viktor.”

Viktor swallowed uncertainly, before lifting his chin up. 

“I want to know why you want to talk to Yuuri, why you tried so hard to drive me away from him. I want to know why the fuck you tried to kidnap Yuuri’s father and what the investigation is about-“

“Shut up!” Anatoly suddenly screamed, making the three of them jump, and Viktor falling in the armchair when his knees hit the edge as he stumbled back away from his father. 

He gripped the armrests tightly and could only stare at his father’s sudden loss of control. His face was contorted into an awful grimace of anger and despise that had Viktor squirm and wince, and Yuuri took a step forward before he could even think about it. 

“Ok it’s fine, he’s seating now,” he tried in a tone as soft as he could manage, infinitely relieved when it didn’t waver. Anatoly turned to look at him, staring at him for what felt like eternity and he seemed to slowly relaxed, his face returning to the cold mask of earlier. 

“Good,” he said, the ghost of a smile upturning his lips and it sent chills down Yuuri’s spine at how cold yet paradoxically crazed it looked. “I want you to tell me everything about this investigation now.” 

“Anatoly-“

In a second Anatoly had a gun pointed at Dvornikov, fury in his eyes. Yuuri gasped, his heart stopping in his chest and he barely heard Viktor’s anguished cry, muffled by his hand coming up to cover his mouth. 

Dvornikov simply stood there, incredibly calm as he raised both hands upwards, slowly blinking as if he already knew this was coming and had resigned himself to it.

“Dad! Don’t, please!”

“Shut up Viktor,” he snapped not diverting his eyes from his partner. “I’ve been wondering Andrei,” he stated, tilting his head to the side. “How long has it been you’ve been working with Katsuki to try and pin me down, hum?” 

Dvornikov’s eyes darkened but he kept silent, lips tightened in a thin line, glaring defiantly. Anatoly hummed, as if he pondered the meaning of Dvornikov’s lack of answer. 

“That’s what I thought,” he mused quietly, before suddenly slamming the handle of the gun down on Dvornikov’s head. 

Viktor let out a scream just as the man slumped down, knocked unconscious. Yuuri could only stare at the unmoving mass on the floor, eyes wide and breath clogged in his throat. Viktor was breathing in gasps, glancing between his father as if a demon, and the man on the carpet. 

“What the– Are you fucking insane?”

Yuuri snapped out of his daze, eyes nailed to Viktor who was back on his feet, hostility oozing from his entire body. His eyebrows were drawn in, his lips curled in a snarl and his cheeks were red from his outburst. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you psychopath!”

The gun cut through the air and Yuuri felt his chest seizing, the canon suddenly straight in front of his line of vision. 

“Don’t!” Viktor screamed, fear overpowering the angry waves of an instant before. 

Yuuri couldn’t remove his eyes from the darkness of the canon for an instant, dreadful panic curling in the pit of his stomach and he could feel his hands trembling, his breaths coming in wavering dragged puffs of air. 

This was not happening.

All sounds suddenly edged away; Viktor’s frantic cries, Anatoly’s sneering, and the thundering of his heart. Thoughts swirling like they never had before, one surged at the forefront of his mind, paralyzing, so far unthinkable, and now clawing its way into his reality. 

_I’m going to die_. 

The words had always been void of meaning. Void of any concrete hold into the realm of probabilities for his close future. It had been too far away to be even remotely fathomable. 

And now, as he stared in the dark depths of a loaded handgun chamber, as Viktor’s pleas echoed back in his ears, despaired and throbbing, it dawned on him. It dawned on him that the ever increasing hammering he could feel pulsing up to his throat was perhaps doing so for the last time. His hands were clammy, his throat was parched, and his head was spinning. 

The dull yet overpowering white noise that had been secluding him to the recluse of his mind spinning around the impossible weight of his realization, exploded sharply and suddenly, Yuuri started as he came back to himself. 

He was still standing, facing the wrong end of a gun and Viktor was still crying a chorus of “Don’t” and “Please”. The single sob that cracked Viktor’s voice wrenched Yuuri from the inside out and he looked up to Anatoly’s eyes, who seemed to have been studying him all this time if the knowing sneer that stretched his lips at that was anything to go by, as if relishing in Yuuri’s fear. 

“Now can we stop the dramatics, and get onto business?” Anatoly quipped in a mock cheerful tone that sparked a vicious punching urge in Yuuri, who felt the threads of panic edge away, slowly replaced by fury. 

He blinked a few times, glaring up angrily at the man, before glancing at Viktor who was now sitting on the armchair. His hands were raised, and only Yuuri understood the chorus of “I’m seating now, I’m seating now” that garnished the “pleases” and “don’ts”. He wasn’t crying but he was nearly choking on his breaths, panic clouding his face as he repeated the words like a mantra, like a protection. 

Yuuri gasped out and closed his mouth, short breaths in and out of his noses, as he battled to get the control of his nerves back. 

He needed to get them through this. He needed to stand his ground enough to get them through this. Fisting his hands and clenching his jaw hard for a second, he released his hold on his breath, willing his heartbeat to calm down. 

He’d put on a mask. That of the cynical, fearless, sassy asshole that bugged the teacher’s lounge and solved private investigations with a smug smile on his face.   
One glance at Viktor. 

Ok, he could do this. He didn’t have a choice anyway. Not if he wanted both of them to come out of this hellhole untouched by the living insanity standing before him. Ironically enough, Elena’s words imposed themselves to the forefront of his mind and he nearly dry laughed. Never had he raised a hand on their sons had she said. He bit his lower lip hard enough he was surprised he didn’t draw blood. If only she could see this now. 

Yuuri clenched his jaw and tilted his head up challengingly, gaze purposefully shooting between the gun and Anatoly’s eyes with as defiant an expression as he could muster. Anatoly huffed a dry laugh, appraising Yuuri like he was some sort of pathetic entertainment. 

No one said anything for several seconds. Viktor seemed to have noticed the change in Yuuri’s demeanor, for he had interrupted his pleas and instead was looking up at him with worry etched all over his ordinarily soft features, creasing furrowed brows, narrowing red-rimmed eyes and twisting his lips. 

One last glance at Viktor. 

His eyes shown with an emotion Yuuri took longer that he ought to understand. Viktor nodded minutely in his direction, the fire ablaze and powerful, seizing Yuuri’s heart for barely a moment as he understood its significance. 

Trust. 

All the panic vanished from the surface, and Yuuri buried it deep, deep, deep down; away from the anger lurking in the shallows, away from the persona he usually didn’t have to fake, away from the focused and renewed confidant determination that took the reins back. 

Silence stretched. Yuuri kept his mouth resolutely shut, staring at Anatoly with frowned brows and narrowed eyes. The man pursed his lips minutely and lowered the gun slowly, eyes never leaving Yuuri’s. 

He let out a quiet breath at the sight, as Anatoly began walking slowly across the opposite side of the room. 

“So, tell me Yuuri,” he started with this suggestive tone Yuuri was growing increasingly wary of. The man turned to him once more, the gun tucked away and both hands clasped in front of him. “What has your father been up to?”

Yuuri felt Viktor’s gaze on him but he didn’t turn away from Nikiforov patriarch. 

He knew. 

Yuuri held no illusions that Anatoly might ignore what was really going on. Perhaps had he not all the details but he at least knew of the recent investigation and its ramifications to his own case. He might ignore the role Elena played though… Maybe her involvement altogether. Anya seemed to have pieced that together, but considering how she hated Anatoly, Yuuri doubted she would actively seek him out to share the information.

Yuuri nearly blinked at the thought, nagging doubt creeping in. There was no way at all that he could be sure of what Anya had said or not… She had gone out of her way to make Viktor suffer by using that exact information. He could only hope that she had refrained from blabbering about it to the man. Hadn’t she mentioned earlier that her father had tried to interfere in her quarrel against Viktor? Perhaps he had commented on not approaching Anatoly either. Dvornikov’s attitude earlier in sending her away could very well back that up. 

Still, Yuuri was more than aware of the caution he had to exert if he wanted to get out of this mess. It was a very thin line between staying safe and not betraying his dad and Elena’s need for the secrecy. Their entire operation could be for naught if Anatoly figured out what was going on before they could finalize the case against him.

He would do everything he could to keep secret everything he’d been told, but more than anything he was scared of the risks both he and Viktor were running by the mere fact of standing in the man’s presence. The only thing he could do was stall for time… He had felt hopeful when he’d seen Dvornikov, but now that the man was out, Yuuri felt incredibly alone in protecting something too big for him. He had absolutely zero idea as to how he would get them out of this. Stalling wouldn’t last forever. For now though, there wasn’t much else he could do. 

Anatoly lifted an eyebrow and Yuuri let out a small breath. Would Anatoly believe he didn’t know much? He could still try and go down that road… Pretending he only knew the bare minimum. It almost made him wonder if his wish for honesty on his father’s part regarding the investigation hadn’t been misled. After the attempted assault at the office, the reasoning that prompted bringing Yuuri further in the loop to protect himself was understandable, but now it meant he would have to lie his ass off. Perhaps it would have been easier if he actually hadn’t known anything of value to Anatoly. Yuuri had the suspicion that whether he was able to answer Anatoly’s questions or not, it wouldn’t really matter to whatever fate the man had in store for him. 

Yuuri was about to say something along the lines of “I don’t know what my father’s doing”, but he was rendered speechless for a moment as Anatoly chimed in before he could utter a word. 

“Don’t even think about lying boy.”

Despite feeling the blood drain from his face, Yuuri didn’t otherwise react, keeping his eyes set on the man in a show of bravado that was nothing but pretense. Breathing deeply, in what he hoped was good semblance of resignation, he looked away for a second. 

“I don’t know much… He refused to tell me anything more than the bare minimum, and only when I plagued him with question for days,” Yuuri said, knowing his voice to be steady enough to be believable, but not too assertive as to clue in Anatoly of the deception. He had looked up at that, conjuring all the honesty he could in his gaze, begging the man to believe him. “I only knew it had something to do with a man named Bogdan, and that it was likely a network of mafia groups working with the local underground communities of Hasetsu in drug dealings.”

Perhaps going back to what he had first thought was the real crux of the matter in this investigation was safe territory. For a long time, even to his father, it had been nothing more than that. There wasn’t any reason for Anatoly to believe that Yuuri knew any more about a case that involved mafia. It wasn’t something for ‘children’ after all. 

The man didn’t say a word for what felt like eternity to Yuuri. He could literally hear his heart pounding in his ears, feeling it throbbing in pulse points and hammering against his ribcage. He better had been believable and managed to keep on the good act. He’d never appreciated his ability to lie more than at this moment. He hadn’t forgotten the gun now hidden in Anatoly’s vest, and considering the calculating look sent his way, he wasn’t the only one. Anatoly stared at him like this for a while, appraising the truthfulness of his statement. 

He eventually looked away, clicking his tongue and resuming the slow walk around the room. It was all Yuuri could do to watch him closely. 

“I wonder…” 

Funny how dreadful two completely innocuous words could become in specific contexts. 

Yuuri closed his moth refusing to let his shaky breathing be heard. He clenched his teeth, trying to pretend as if he couldn’t believe Anatoly’s suspicion, pushing forward all the innocence he could on his face. But Anatoly wasn’t even looking his way. 

“You see Yuuri, I stood by my dear business partner for some time now,” he continued and Yuuri had to consciously think about schooling his face not to let his traitorous eyebrow twitch up at the dishonesty in the words. “Only to learn he has been working against me all this time.”

“It was more than a little odd you see, this way he had to constantly throw my suggestions out the window when it came down to deal with the problem your father represents. I won’t be teaching anything new if I tell you he’s been a thorn in my foot for longer than I can remember.” His tone was acerbic, cutting and laced with cold venom. The disgust Yuuri detected there almost made him shiver. 

“Despite what I told you back at your father’s office a few days ago, I do believe you to have some brains hidden in that thick-headed skull of yours; so I’m sure you’ll understand my reserves on anything you could tell me. See, after being lied to by my own partner for so long, it is only natural to be warry of whatever people affirm.”

The pleasant tone adopted didn’t fool Yuuri one bit, and it was all he could do to patiently wait for the other shoe to drop, all his efforts going into the impassive but confident mask he’d adorned. Anatoly turned to face him, an expression on his face too earnest to be true. 

“So tell me young Katsuki, how can I be sure you are telling the truth, hum?” 

Like usual, words left Yuuri’s lips before he could even think. 

“You did warn me not to lie.” He could have slapped himself at how cheeky he sounded. 

_Bloody moron, did you forget he has a gun?!_

The comment only threw the man in a fit of laughter that took Yuuri completely by surprise, halting his silent berating and left him to watch the manic individual in front of him, wide-eyed. 

“So I did. Always an answer, isn’t that right Yuuri?” Anatoly asked at last. 

Yuuri released a long breath, eyes darting around as he gathered back his nerves before settling back on the man. 

“Well, I’m 140 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones, sarcasm is my only defense.” 

Anatoly huffed a laugh, humming as he appraised Yuuri. “Perhaps not the only one. You do lie pretty well.”

_Fuck_

Yuuri’s heart was beating in his ears. His face remained as blank as ever. Which only stirred another dry laugh out of the man as he shook his head, resuming his slow pacing in a wide half-circle. Yuuri’s eyes travelled along with him and each steps made his inside twist further into knots. 

How in the holly hell had Anatoly managed to spot the lie, he didn’t know. He knew how good he was at lying. He’d barely ever been found out before when it came down to investigations, and even then, only by his parents. 

Cogs turning frantically in his mind, Yuuri tried to rationalize, change perspective. Perhaps… perhaps Anatoly did not actually spot the lie. _Think Yuuri_. If it were him, Yuuri probably would have tried to gaud whoever he was trying to extract information from by volunteering his suspicions that the other was lying, in the hope he would crack and confess to avoid consequences Yuuri always made sure to announce beforehand. Yuuri released a breath. 

Anatoly was doing the same thing. Besides, doing the job he was, Yuuri was sure to not be rubbish at this game, Anatoly must have known that. And he did have a reputation after all. 

He went for resigned denial. As if despite telling the truth, acting-Yuuri knew the other wouldn’t believe him. 

“What do you want me to say?”

Anatoly cocked his head sideways as his gazed was kept firmly on Yuuri. He seemed to have greatly calmed down from his outburst earlier and the controlled composure was back in place. Like a viper waiting to strike.

“Perhaps you should start with the truth.”

Yuuri nearly scoffed with an eye roll. “I _did_. I don’t know any more than this and I had absolutely no idea it involved you!”

“How do you know it involves me?” Anatoly said darkly. 

Expecting the question, Yuuri didn’t miss a beat.“Why else would you be so worked up over it and be so anxious to talk to me if it didn’t?”

Anatoly stayed silent for several seconds, regarding him with piercing look. Yuuri felt like a dissected experiment, or as if he was pushed through x-rays. He did his best not to squirm under the scrutiny, but the heavy silence that had welcomed his words didn’t make bearing it easier. 

Eventually Anatoly hummed in exaggerated wistfulness that grated on Yuuri’s nerves and it was all he could do to silently grit his teeth as the other circled one armchair before sitting in it with composed practice. The first image that came to Yuuri’s mind was a mafia lord conducting a business meeting, imperiously dominating low members like they weren’t deserving his time. The image didn’t sit well with him considering the more than subtle resemblance it shared with his current situation. Especially since it usually didn’t end well for said members. 

“I almost could have believed you.”

Without leaving his pretense, Yuuri rolled his eyes and exhaled heavily in what he hoped would sound close to a desperate disbelieving scoff.

“Just great. And where does that leave us now, hum?” he snapped, looking at the other defiantly. “You want information, I give it to you, and you don’t believe me. Should I make something up until its close enough to what you’ve fabricated in your mind?”

For all of Anatoly pretense aloofness, Yuuri couldn’t miss the sharp and cold edge to his eyes. If he wasn’t so focused on keeping his mask intact, he might have taken a step back. 

Despite the apparent suicidal plan he tried to follow by pretending not to know anything in typical arrogant brattish way, he felt positively queasy at the idea that it could backfire. What imbecile threw such words at a powerful, cold-blooded mafia who just so happened to have pointed a gun at you not even ten minutes earlier?

“Dad, this is insane,” Viktor protested, with more force and steadiness to his voice than Yuuri expected after his earlier sobs. He was looking over to his father, face closed off and eyes shining a gleam eerily similar to the Viktor he’d known since 7th grade, and it didn’t sit particularly well with Yuuri. “You can’t expect Yuuri’s father to share details about his job like that, especially if I interpret your insistence correctly and this is rather delicate.”

Anatoly levelled yet another harsh glance at his son. “You didn’t seem to share that particular opinion a few years ago, did you _son_?” 

Viktor blinked and swallowed hard. “I’m old enough to understand that it was more than ludicrous to believe an eleven year-old could have known anything related to an investigation for fiscal fraud, especially from his own father.”

“You seem to forget Yuuri works with his father-“

“He does _now_! That wasn’t the case then! And besides, isn’t there some sort of privacy clause or something related to these things? Stipulating you cannot just share details to outside parties?”

Anatoly stayed silent for barely a few seconds but the look he threw Viktor could have wilted a whole bush of flowers. Clearly the man didn’t appreciate being interrupted. Not that that was surprising. 

“I knew you weren’t very bright Viktor, but I’d never thought you’d be that stupid.”

Viktor visibly flinched and Yuuri could only stand there mouth agape and horrified look on his face as he stared at Anatoly. What kind of father could even think those words? Let alone say them out loud right to the face of their own child? If Yuuri hadn’t already forgiven Viktor for everything that had transpired between them, this sole conversation would have made him understand everything faster than he could blink. He already had a vivid image of a younger Viktor suffering the verbal abuse and brain-washing of his father since he’d been told what had transpired unbeknownst to his younger self five years ago, but this took it a step further in the worst direction. 

Yuuri heard Viktor shaky breathing, but he didn’t back down. 

“You can call me stupid all you want but you’re the one paranoid enough to point a gun on a teenager to obtain information that he doesn’t have on an investigation that might as well be a figment of your imagination at this point.”

If Yuuri hadn’t been so damn scared of the retaliation that was sure to come for the back-talking, he would have been fucking impressed at how Viktor held his own after everything that the man had done to him. 

But sure enough. 

“I am not sure what exactly you hoped to achieve by that pathetic attempt to sidetrack me, but perhaps I did not make myself clear enough,” Anatoly stated. The gun was back in plain sight and Yuuri’s heart froze in his chest. “Perhaps I should repeat the rules of the game you are _clearly_ not in charge of. First, if you open your mouth uttering some additional inanities _my dear son_ , I will be sure to disabuse you of the delusion that your opinion matters here, by whatever means necessary. Second, you should get onto the part I am interested in, and fast, Mr Katsuki instead of deceiving yourself in believing that I did not catch you lying through your teeth. Sit down Mr Katsuki, before I make you.” Yuuri didn’t even think about protesting before he found himself on the couch next to Viktor’s armchair and opposite Anatoly. His feeling of vulnerability only increased tenfold as he lost the, rather feeble but reassuring nonetheless, option of running away. “Now, how clear is that?”

Yuuri felt a quick glance from Viktor just as he tried not to divert his gaze from the man and the gun he was now holding in plain sight.

“Crystal,” he gritted through clenched teeth. 

A horrific pleased smile appeared on Anatoly’s face. “Good. Now that we’ve wasted enough time in making you both understand that you are far from as clever as you seemed to assume and reiterated that I am the one leading this conversation, let’s get back to the main order of business shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the faaaan!!
> 
> Thoughts? :D 
> 
> Side-Note: the "I'm 140 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones, sarcasm is my only defense" is yet again, Stiles Stilinski from Teen Wolf...   
> For people using kg like me, it's about 63.5kg. Not that its important, but personally, I don't like not to know its frustrating^^ (like Fahrenheit/Celsius... still don't get the logic of Fahrenheit but oh well)


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I decided to post three chapters this week, but only cause the next one is incredibly short. I had to cut this chap and the next the way I did though, and I'm sure you'll understand why after you read both (or at least I hope so). 
> 
> WARNING  
> I'm not sure how I should proceed for this - I don't want to give away too much, but I wouldn't want anyone to be triggered.   
> There's some violence in this chapter, nothing gory but better mention it. Also, you've noticed, Anatoly is not exactly sane and there's a big paragraph where he explains his vision of the world which is particularly harsh and crude (yet not exactly unheard of in our somewhat dysfunctional world). There's callous mention of his dealings (which included sex trafficking - hence rape) in there, although no details and a derogatory word used against Viktor's sexual orientation. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway!

Yuuri had to resist the urge to wince. Despite the now seemingly permanent bag of knots in the pit of his stomach, anger and frustration had equally gained ground. He hated the man. Hated him with every fiber of his being for everything he had done, and what he was doing right now. Perhaps worst of all, was the muted but strong voice in the back of his mind reminding him how powerless he was in this situation. For all he wanted to ensure his dad and Elena’s efforts didn’t go to waste, how was he supposed to keep both he and Viktor safe and get themselves out of here? 

The man clearly didn’t have any intention of letting them go anywhere… Yuuri for the information the other believed he held, and Viktor to coerce him into sharing it.

Perhaps he could try another lie. Give him whatever he wanted – information – and hope it was enough. The man couldn’t have known he had lied earlier could he? In Yuuri’s opinion he’d mostly argued so because Yuuri hadn’t been talking enough. 

He had to do _something_. Manipulating the conversation to get the hell out of here perhaps? Risky didn’t even cover it and the odds of pulling it off were as high as becoming best friends with Mister Philips. 

This wasn’t a plan. This was a suicide mission. But Yuuri was at a loss for a better one. He could stay quiet, Anatoly was bound to lose the very little patience he had and one of them would get hurt. 

Likely Viktor, and Yuuri couldn’t even fathom it. Saying the truth was absolutely out of the question. But he had to say _something_! Anatoly wouldn’t give up until he was told something… The likeliness of hurt coming their way was just perhaps not as high saying something – anything – as if he said nothing. 

Yuuri eventually looked over at Anatoly, who lifted an eyebrow, clearly expecting him to get on with it. 

“I didn’t lie earlier,” he started, measuring his words carefully. It felt like going through a minefield in complete darkness. “I don’t know much. My father didn’t want me near the case, so he told me the bare minimum to satiate my curiosity.” 

“But your curiosity knows no bound I am told,” Anatoly drawled. 

Yuuri swallowed, blinking away a few times before resuming. “I already relayed, everything he directly told me,” he explained emphasizing on the ‘directly’. He saw understanding in the man’s eyes and decided to go down that road. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t try to know more by myself.” He paused, not so much for dramatic effect than to try and pull a half-assed believable story. 

“Oh and pray tell, what did you discover?”

The tone didn’t leave anything to guess for. Anatoly was getting increasingly impatient. Yuuri’s eyelids fluttered shut as he stared at the mental blank wall in front of him. What the fuck was he doing? If he said the wrong thing, or not believably enough, he had the ominous feeling Anatoly would retaliate. 

He didn’t even think before the next words were out of his mouth. 

“Let Viktor go,” he blurted out, earning himself a dark look from the man he was focused on, a soft gasp and wide-eyed from his…friend. “Let him go and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Didn’t I tell you already why he was here?” Anatoly retorted as if talking to a particularly dim young child. “Why would I give up my bargaining chip?”

Yuuri was going to be sick. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of Viktor being a bargaining chip, and he could only glare at the man with all the hate he could muster for thinking – no, even worse, voicing– , such despicable words about his own son. And yet, after everything, it shouldn’t have surprised him… Hell it _didn’t_ even surprise him as much as he’d thought…

“Well _my_ bargaining chip is what I can tell you,” he nearly snapped back. “And I won’t share any information without knowing Viktor’s safe and away from here.”

And he’d thought he’d been suicidal before. 

The fury in Anatoly’s eyes told him the last shreds of self-control were effectively being reduced to naught, and it was either the perfect opportunity or the enactment of their early end. Yuuri’s chest seized in fright when the man jumped to his feet in a bout of anger, and he started out of his skin upon seeing the wide arms gestures, swinging around like he wasn’t holding a loaded gun. 

“And I’ll hurt your precious little boy friend if you don’t. Start. Talking. You imbecile!”

Yuuri snapped. From pure fright, anger or desperation, he had no idea and didn’t care; didn’t even think about it really, before he was on his feet.

“Hurt him like you did and still do every victim of your despicable trafficking?” Yuuri shouted, ignoring most of what the man had said. “You know, those you’ve kidnapped all over Hasetsu in the last years to fuel your drug manufactures and brothels?! Is that what you’ll do to your own son, you degenerate bastard! Do you even know the definition of conscience? Making money off the lives of other people, people you knew didn’t have family with the resources to look for them, and condemning them to hellish life so that you could make billions of dollars – or rubles because who knows who you’ve been reporting to right? Adding several extra Ks to your own pockets by manipulating the finances so that your own partner wouldn’t earn as much. As despicable as your business is, this only adds to it! You’re just a sniveling, despicable excuse for a human being! And to add insult to injury, you’ve destroyed your own family in the process, leading your wife to leave you like the son of a bitch you are when she discovered what you’re so called business was about, and pushing your sons away from you! Oh and I almost forgot, you destroyed Dvonirkov’s life too, and Anya’s! Your manipulations are the reasons her mother jumped off that bridge! Are those the lengths you’d go to just to make me talk?! Is that what you’d try to do to Viktor just to learn a couple of stuff a teenager might have gleamed here and there?!”

Yuuri stopped shouting, throat raw and voice spent after so much shouting. He was panting, barely registering that he was standing, and Viktor had wrapped his hand on his arms, tugging him back. All he could focus on was the fuming figure of Anatoly ready to snap. 

All thoughts of caution had flown out the window. There was nothing there anymore but desperate rage filling Yuuri’s mind. The silence was as loud as thunderstorms, tension bristling electricity in the air. 

“Is that what you’re doing?” Viktor asked. A quick glance told Yuuri he was very close to lose it too. Expression strained, brows drawn together and jaw set, he was regarding his father with more hatred and horror than Yuuri had ever seen and it sent chills down his spine. “Is that why mom left? Because you’re a- a… a fucking mafia, kidnaping people, enslaving them for drug production or sexual assault- rape?!” he spat the word. 

“Not rape if they’re paid,” Anatoly snarled, though Yuuri couldn’t even fathom as to how it occurred to the man that this could even be a minimally acceptable answer.

“You son of a bitch! It is if they’re coerced into it! What the fuck is wrong with you? You make me sick!”

“Oh do I?” the enraged retort came. Anatoly looked incensed, ready to shoot the first thing on sight, and considering he was holding a gun and they were only thing on sight, that wasn’t good. 

The crawling, freezing fear of earlier came back, but there was no time for Yuuri to dwell on it, all his senses and attention assaulted by the livid man in front of them.

“And what do you think paid for your pampered lifestyle Viktor, hum? Or your brother’s! You didn’t seem to mind where the money was coming from when I got you your car, computers and your faggot collection of clothes and jewelry! How do you think the world works boy? Let me enlighten you: it revolves around power. No weak has ever survived, let alone thrive. Power is the only thing worth seeking if you want to make your place in this world, and that revolves around money! Funny how this works, doesn’t it? You cannot eat, drink or breath money, and yet there is not a single person on this planet that does not seek it above all else. This is how the game works: have enough money and you’re at the top of the food chain; don’t, and you’ll become the prey everyone else feeds off of. There is no middle ground and you better understand this fast before you sink to the bottom! Learn the rules of the game, and play it better than the rest. _That_ is what I have been doing. If it means using worthless whores begging for it, to do so then so be it! Whatever means necessary to get there, is worth as long as you _do_ get there. And I did. Despite all the people presenting ethics, integrity and other grey area nonsense. Your generation preaches those same foolishly utopic ideals and yet they are the same ones who enjoy the drugs I manufacture so much at those parties you so love. You seem to think I’m a monster for what I do, yet boy, you never questioned it before, relishing in your ignorance. So don’t come to me with your pitiful attempt at moral high grounds. The world’s not all rainbows and butterflies, idiot boy, you should stop trying to convince yourself that it is and face reality.”

The man was dangerously close to them now, hammering each word with a step forward that had the boys retreating slowly. He was red in the face, eyes bulged out and crazed and gesticulating the gun away from and back to him as he emphasized parts of his speech. Yuuri felt as if his breath had been stolen away, all protests dying in his throat as the man worked himself up and looked further closer to strike by the second. Next to him, Viktor too had tensed, his hold on Yuuri’s arm tightening to an almost painful level if Yuuri had had the mind to pay attention. 

“You are mad,” Viktor all but whispered the words and never Yuuri would have expected the answer the soft comment earned after all the outburst of earlier.  
It all happened so quickly Yuuri barely had time to blink. Anatoly had raised the hand holding the gun and backhanded Viktor so violently he fell, half dragging Yuuri with him for the hand still on his arm. 

“Oh my god, Viktor!”

Yuuri was on his knees before he could comprehend the entirety of the scene, his hands going straight to cradle Viktor’s face, eyes roaming up and down in search of the damage. Viktor was breathing heavily, a hand on his cheek and Yuuri had to pry it away from it slowly to inspect his face, only to see his bottom lip was split and his cheek had already exploded in tones of red, cheekbone already darkening into a nasty bruise. 

“You little shithead,” the man snarled viciously and fear seized Yuuri before he even realized he was getting closer. “I’ll teach you madness!” Yuuri was pushed unceremoniously away from Viktor who’d automatically raised both hands over his face and head in a protective stance. 

Yuuri’s back collided violently with the hard side of the couch, knocking the breath out of him and leaving him unable to inhale. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, his lungs feeling like they’d crumpled onto themselves. As air finally made its way in, he gulped it hungrily, coughing in his rush. 

Anatoly was holding Viktor by his air, a whine turning in a scream of pain. Viktor went to hold the strained strands of hair and his father’s wrist, but dropped everything as a particularly hard pull made him lose balance and he fell to his side. Anatoly kicked him hard in his ribcage and Viktor cried out. 

“No! Stop!” Yuuri jumped to his feet, or tried to as he was still feeling lightheaded from his no-breathing experience, and threw himself towards the others, gripping the much taller man’s forearm to get him to release his hold on Viktor. “Leave him alon-“

Sharp pain exploded in his eyebrow arch, radiating intensely in his face and down his neck as he was smacked away the same way Viktor had. He fell backwards and to the floor, head slamming on the hardwood floor and he saw stars. Too shocked to cry out, he could barely focus and the only sounds coming to him were that of Viktor’s barely intelligible pleas to let go. 

Yuuri was gasping for air, blinking the black spots obscuring his vision as he fought not to pass out. He turned his head slowly towards the other two, Viktor was thrashing as much as he could trying to throw his father off balance to get him to release him, while Anatoly had tightened his grip, shaking his son back and forth, yelling into his face. Viktor was crying, screaming. 

As Yuuri’s vision cleared, he rolled to his side and had to slow his attempt as pain pulsed viciously in his skull, making him want to throw up. Still gasping, it took every ounce of physical strength he had to push himself up, the effort only aggravating the lightheadedness. Unstable as he was, it was a miracle he was standing upright at all. 

He staggered to the small vanity next to where Viktor had been sitting. He nearly fell onto it when his feet caught in the carpet, but righted himself up with his hand onto the round table. 

He grabbed the lamp, and before another wave of dizziness could take over, he swiveled towards Anatoly, the man’s back to him and tried to slam the foot of the lamp onto the man’s head. It made a dull sound as they collided, and Anatoly released Viktor with a pained and furious cry. Yuuri mustn’t have hit the right part because unlike Dvornikov who’d looked like he’d dropped dead on the spot, Anatoly only staggered to the side, a little away from them proffering insults upon insults. 

Viktor scrambled away, as far as he could and nearly knocked Yuuri off his feet. Yuuri barely had time to register what was going on. 

The man whirled around and raised the gun. 

For the second time that night he contemplated the loaded canon of a gun that could end his life in a matter of millisecond. He could only stare at it, knowing it was over when suddenly, the door exploded open and someone shot before Anatoly had a chance to. 

Yuuri barely registered screaming in shock and terror, as the bullet perforated the man’s shoulder and he dropped the gun. It clattered to the floor at the same time Anatoly collapsed under the momentum of the shot. The air smelled like burnt powder and all was silent for barely an instant but for the echo of the shot, before it was suddenly a flurry of noises. 

It was over. 

Yuuri gasped out a sob, relief flooding him and suddenly too much as everything crashed around him. 

It was over. 

He collapsed to his knees, crying and gasping. Viktor was right next to him and he reached out, his hand gently cupping Yuuri’s shoulder. It was all the incentive he needed before Yuuri had Viktor in a tight embrace, his arms around the other’s neck and Viktor’s circling his back. He too was crying, tears dampening the back of Yuuri’s shirt. 

Neither noticed Anatoly groaning insults, moaning in pain as he tried to push himself up. Several police officers surrounded him in a second, unceremoniously pulling him to his feet and cuffed his hands after snatching his arms behind his back.

Yuuri cradled the back of Viktor’s head, gently petting the abused scalp. 

“It’s ok,” he heard murmuring between sobs. “It’s ok, it’s over now.” It only made Yuuri cry harder. It was as much for his benefit as for Viktor he knew, but he wouldn’t have been able to express into words how good it felt to hear it. 

He didn’t know how long they stayed there. They only released each other when someone tapped them on the shoulder. As gently as it was, it didn’t prevent either of them to flinch in alarm, before recognition dawned on them. 

“Come now boys, let’s take a look at you,” Sheriff Leroy said softly. “Can you stand?” 

He helped them both up, guiding them towards the door. Yuuri didn’t even think before his hand found Viktor’s, gripping it as if his life depended on it. He couldn’t shake off the weird feeling that his head was filled with wool and the nausea was still there. Viktor tightened his grip too, and there was that.

Before long, they were on the large terrace of the mansion, several paramedics already there with equipment in place. Yuuri didn’t know what he’d been expecting but it looked eerily like a crime scene. As he looked up, he saw Dvornikov being attended to, Anya sobbing and incoherent by his side. He looked disoriented and a little worse for wear, but beyond that seemed relatively fine. He was massaging the back of his head with a grimace when he caught Yuuri’s eye. Yuuri barely reacted, though he clearly saw the nod he was addressed. 

Yuuri and Viktor were led towards stretchers, and were soon attended by paramedics, promptly checking their vitals, pupillary response and whatnot. Yuuri was barely aware through half of it, still running high on the adrenaline, and entirely unable to focus. He faintly registered his eyebrow arch was being sutured and someone muttering something about a concussion. 

The paramedic finally stepped aside, and Yuuri was abruptly brought back to reality upon hearing his name shouted. 

“Yuuri!”

He looked up, only to meet the frantic look in his dad’s eyes. 

“Dad,” he whispered and jumped off the cart and ran faster than he should have been able to. He crashed in his dad and melted in the reassuring yet shaky embrace.   
“Thank god you’re alright. Everything’s going to be fine now, you’re safe, schhh, it’s ok kiddo, you’re ok.”

Yuuri was crying again, silently this time, his father stroking his hair gently in a soothing motion. After a while, his father pushed him gently away, and took his chin in his hand to angle Yuuri’s face where he could examine the damage. Yuuri had only a dull pain throbbing around his eyes thanks to the painkiller he’d received and knew it was likely swollen for part of his vision was obscured. His father frowned in displeasure at the sight, lips pursed with worry. He cradled the other side of Yuuri’s face, really looking at him before he sighed deeply. 

“What were you thinking Yuuri?” he asked oh so gently, no disappointment in his voice, simply bone-deep fear and need to understand. 

Yuuri swallowed, fighting a fresh wave of silent tears. 

“I wasn’t…” he managed to say. “I mean, I didn’t know he’d be there.” There wasn’t any need to specify who “he” referred to. The words were tumbling down of his mouth without his prompting. “I knew Viktor had followed Anya to try and get some explanation for her actions. She’s the one who orchestrated Makka being kidnapped. She’d been pretty rash lately, and I didn’t know what either would do in anger and I just… I don’t know, I thought I could mitigate or something…”

His father was silent for a few seconds. 

“You were worried about Viktor.” It wasn’t a question, it was a simple statement. One holding the realization that many things had changed and that he would have to expect them to be different. 

Yuuri screwed up his face as he tried not to cry again as memories assaulted him, the pain and the shouts, the fear and horror, the relief and sob escaped him. He managed to nod mutely, and closed his eyes, exhaling deeply to try and calm himself. 

“And then it just…all went to shit… He tried to make me talk, he wanted information about the investigation,” he rambled. “I didn’t want to say anything, I knew how important it was for it to be kept secret still, but he suspected so much… I didn’t want to betray your trust and all your work, but I was so scared,” he said, unable to prevent yet another sob from escaping his mouth. He breathed out shakily again, tears drenching his cheeks. “I didn’t know how to not talk and keep us safe, and then he– , he pointed the gun at me…he slapped Viktor, pulled his hair and kicked him…he slapped me too and I tried to– to…hit him but he didn’t fall… God I was so scared, so so scared…” 

And he was in his father’s arms again, being shushed softly. His dad ran slow circles on his back.

He managed to calm down enough after a few minutes to take a step back. Yuuri rubbed his hands on his cheeks and eyes, erasing the tears he couldn’t suppress. “And then they arrived, and we were out,” he finished. 

“Yuuri look at me, son,” his father prompted, and Yuuri did, chest still heaving every few seconds. His father’s eyes were brimming with pained tears. “Please, never again put your life at risk for the sake of keeping my investigation a secret. Don’t ever think it to be an acceptable risk. I’m so so sorry you thought you had to protect this. I’d never meant to put you in this situation, and because of all this you nearly died. I’m so sorry kiddo, so so sorry.” 

It felt good, to be told these things and to be embraced after everything. It finally felt like the last of the heavy worries that had been weighting on him were suddenly lifted. 

“Your mother is waiting outside the premises. She wasn’t allowed in during the intervention obviously and since she isn’t part of the investigating team I don’t think she’ll be allowed access,” he heard his father explain gently. Yuuri could only nod, and they stayed that way a little while, before he remembered something. 

“And Elena?” he tried to say, voice muffled in his dad’s shoulder. “She’s technically part of the team right, seeing as she helped so much; or is that not officially recognized?” he continued after stepping back, looking expectantly at his dad who seemed to be considering his answer for only a moment.

“She’s downstairs,” he answered indicating the stairs with his head. “She’s terrified, but we didn’t know if it was a good idea for her to appear in front of Viktor so suddenly.”

Yuuri looked behind his shoulder to the silver-head who was still being tended by the paramedic. He seemed to be receiving further attention due to the kicks Anatoly administered. His shirt was off and even from a distance, Yuuri could see it had bloomed in a dark purple color. He winced as he stared for a few seconds, hoping no ribs had been broken, or if it had that his lungs were fine. He turned to his dad shaking his head to dispel the sight and focus. 

“I think it should be fine.” He said eventually. “He could use comforting too, and I don’t think he’ll reject it from his mom. Even if she’s been absent for five years… I wouldn’t be surprised if he suspected why she was away at this point…” 

His father nodded mutely, and patted the good side of his face before taking his phone out. Yuuri squeezed his arm, and walked back to Viktor, hopefully to cushion the blow. 

“Hey,” he said lamely.

Viktor smiled weakly. “Hey.”

Yuuri exhaled as he looked intently at him. “Thank you,” he blurted. “For everything…” 

Viktor was staring at him like he had grown a second head. Why did this keep happening?

“Yuuri, thank _you_.” he said earnestly, reaching out to grab Yuuri’s hand. “I’d never been able to keep my cool had I been alone… You handled things brilliantly; I don’t know how you managed it.”

Yuuri let out a disbelieving, breathy laugh and smirked. “Yeah, and now we both have sutures and look like death warmed over, really brilliant.”

“Yeah well, we match now,” Viktor said with a smirk of his own that had Yuuri smile and roll his eyes. 

Regaining some sense of seriousness, he nodded towards Viktor’s chest. 

“Nothing broken I hope?” He internally winced for how weak his voice sounded but, hey, after everything that happened, it probably couldn’t be helped and he cut himself some slack. 

“No, I don’t think so…” Viktor gingerly pulled the hem of his shirt up, revealing a far bigger bruise than Yuuri had envisioned from afar. His eyes grew wide in horror, his mouth stretching into a thin line as he could only imagine the pain Viktor must have been in. Meanwhile, Viktor kept on talking, oblivious to Yuuri’s reaction. “Or the paramedic doesn’t think so. I breathe perfectly fine. I’ll just have to get an x-ray to ensure it’s all good, but for now apparently it’s fine.”

“It looks worse than it is,” Viktor eventually said after a few seconds of silence. Yuuri snapped his eyes up and glared. 

“You’re purple,” he retorted. 

Viktor only raised a single eyebrow and pointed at Yuuri’s face. “You too.” 

“Do you seriously want to make a list and compare?” he dryly stated, earning himself a good-natured smirk from Viktor that dissolved his stern composure. He sighed, shaking his head at their antics with a small smile. It subdued as he remembered what he was supposed to do. 

He looked behind his shoulder, trying to see if Elena had joined his father up the stairs. It seemed like she wasn’t there yet when he didn’t spot her, and instead refocused on Viktor. 

“Hey Viktor, remember when you said that the good guy’s the one who stays and the bad guy’s the one who leaves?” he said cautiously. 

Viktor snorted dryly, eyes instantly hardening with pain and betrayal. 

“That was the definition of stupid…,” he spat, anger mostly directed inward and Yuuri grimaced at hearing it. “I defended my father, and I had no idea what he was truly capable of… Say Yuuri, did you know anything about this?” he asked after pausing, eyeing Yuuri prudently. 

Yuuri swallowed, wincing a bit as he looked for his next words. 

“I mean, I gathered that you know more about what’s going on than what you told my dad earlier, and I can’t help but hoping that… I don’t know, that perhaps she didn’t–…” 

He sighed deeply in defeat, eyes dropping to the floor. “You know what, never mind, it’s stupid, I guess I just–” 

“It’s not stupid,” Yuuri rushed out, closing his eyes and shaking his head as he continued. “Saying sorry will never cover it, but I truly am so incredibly sorry for not mentioning anything earlier. I promised I wouldn’t, but I wanted to… Especially after what you told me…” 

Viktor was staring at him wide eyed and mouth agape and it threw Yuuri off track. 

“Hum,” Yuuri started, rather eloquently, before taking in a deep breath. Despite the reassurance he’d offered his father, this could very well go south.

“Your mother left because she discovered what your dad was doing and feared he’d tried to take you guys away from her if she tried to get custody overtly.” He’d rushed the words out and then clamped his mouth shut, as if waiting for an explosion. 

Viktor stared at him blankly, his mouth forming an 'o' as if his mind could not compute the information.

When no explosion came, Yuuri relaxed a little, swallowing. 

“You’re mother’s been back in town,” he confessed quietly, ensuring he didn’t divert his eyes when Viktor looked at him again. 

After lying by omission on such a topic, he felt he owed at least that to Viktor. Viktor, who now looked like he’d been punched to his stomach. Again.   
Neither could dwell on Yuuri’s words for it seemed Elena had reached the terrace and the commotion that followed her panic cries for her son brought both their attention towards the edge of the balcony. 

Viktor gasped a wet sound, hand instinctively grabbing Yuuri’s wrist. 

“Mom…” he whispered shakily and disbelievingly, sounding like his voice was about to break any second. 

Thirty meters away from them, Elena frantically looked around and Yuuri could pinpoint exactly the moment where she laid eyes on Viktor. Her entire frame deflated and it was obvious she began sobbing in earnest before she even took off running. Yuuri barely had time to throw a quick glance back at Viktor before he too jumped to his feet and closed the distance with his mother. 

Just as he had earlier with his own dad, Yuuri saw Viktor literally throw himself in his mother’s opened arms and clinging to her hard enough Yuuri was surprised she didn’t break. She was doing just as much, and the two quickly ended up on their knees, still in each other arms and loudly sobbing. 

“Oh my baby boy, I’m so sorry I left. I love you so much Vitya, so so much.” She took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead and cheeks repeatedly, before taking him back into her arms. 

Yuuri didn’t realize he was crying through his smile as he contemplated the reunion, before he felt his father settle his arm around his shoulder and proceeded to wipe off the few tears that escaped. 

There was no word. No word that could encompass what was happening in front of his eyes, and he settled to put his head on his dad shoulder relishing in the warmth and comfort. 

“I missed- y-you so- so much…” Viktor cried out, barely able to breathe through his sobs. “Never leave again, p-please…never leave again…”

“Never Vitya, never again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're saaaaafe!! And Anatoly is finally in custody... and happy reunion! :D I was waiting for this for soooo long.
> 
> What did you think? 
> 
> I hope the warnings at the beginning were enough - and don't hesitate to tell me if not and I apologize deeply if it wasn't. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned for the next one, it's a good one...:3


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And as promised! Be aware though that this one is extremely short compared to all the rest - but as I said last time, I really wanted to cut this chap and the one before this way because *reasons. 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it anyway! <3

“Mr Katsuki?”

Yuuri was slow to turn towards the person calling him, eyes glued to the center of the terrace where Viktor and Elena were still on the floor. At the second call, he finally dragged his head toward the paramedic, his awareness sluggishly trying to process what was happening. 

“Hum, yes sorry.”

The woman smiled indulgently. “We can let you go home,” she explained gently. “You have a mild concussion, but nothing too serious. I will need your father to come and sign these,” she added pointing at the clip board she held. Yuuri nodded silently. “As for your brow bone, you should keep the sutures for a week and go see your doctor to have them removed. You can apply ice for 15 to 30 minutes regularly to reduce the swelling.”

Yuuri looked up at the end of the explanation, offering a small smile and nod to show he understood, before he turned to spot his father, who stepped away to talk to the Sheriff. He was already walking towards them, and he passed an arm around Yuuri as he finally arrived close enough. 

Yuuri sighed softly, and unconsciously leaned closer to his father, eyes closing for a second. The adrenaline was finally disappearing from his system, leaving his muscles as heavy as lead, and exhaustion slowly seeping in. His emotions had been wrung so tightly all this time, it now felt like an elastic that had snapped under the pressure. He didn’t listen to the conversation happening around him but was vaguely aware that the paramedic reiterated her explanations and that his dad shifted to sign the papers. 

He opened his eyes when his father stroked his arm up and down to get his attention. “Come on kiddo, let’s go home.”

He nodded, out of it, before frowning. “Wait, what about Viktor?” 

He received a small raised eyebrow at the question, and a look Yuuri didn’t care to try and interpret. 

“You were really out of it just now, weren’t you?” his father asked, a little amused. Yuuri frowned further puzzled. “I just asked, and they advise he goes to the hospital to ensure that no rib has been broken,” he explained softly as he steered Yuuri away. 

As they walked along the terrace bannister, Yuuri’s eyes drifted away towards Elena and Viktor again. 

They were standing now, a paramedic talking to the both of them, but it appeared only Elena was listening, as Viktor was still pressed in her embrace, unwilling to let go. 

“Oh Hiroko.”

Yuuri snapped his head forward at his father’s words, eyes already stinging again as they fell upon his approaching mother. He was engulfed in another bear hug, the warmth of his mother’s arms and the scent of home, going a long way in appeasing the nerves he hadn’t realized were still raw in the midst of the exhaustion. 

“You were incredibly brave, I am so proud of you my Yuuchan,” she murmured softly, caressing the back of his head back and forth. He closed his eye to prevent any more tears from falling, focusing on the beating of her heart in tandem with his. She let him go slowly, and cupped his cheek. 

“But never, ever do something like that ever again, you hear me?” she said in Japanese, the seriousness of her request, hammered with each word. He couldn’t help but smile softly, giving an assertive nod in answer. “Good,” she said and gave him another hug for good measure. 

When she released him, his father stepped forward. “How did you manage to enter?”

She levelled a look at her husband, smiling her usual bubbly smile but somehow reminded Yuuri of the Cheshire cat. “I’m persuasive.” 

Yuuri exchanged a look with his father, both of them reminded why Hiroko wasn’t one to be messed with. 

“Can you go home Yuu-chan?” his mother asked, her hand squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder. He nodded. 

“We just need to check on him regularly when he’ll sleep, he has a small concussion,” his father replied, petting the back of Yuuri’s head. Demonstrations of affection had never been rare in their family, but Yuuri particularly relished in them that night. He found himself being grounded more by their touch, feeling like he would drown within himself without it. 

“Hiroko!”

The little family turned toward Elena, who was approaching them with Viktor under her arm. Yuuri couldn’t help to notice how small and vulnerable he looked, and that stirred something unpleasant in him at the reminder of the events that led them all here. 

His mother gave a wide smile, reaching out to grab Elena’s extended hand. 

“Thank you again so much,” Elena whispered, voice breaking halfway through. Her eyes were glistening with tears, and shining with emotions. They conveyed easily just how grateful Elena was for what his mother had done for the past years, and the weight of it was overwhelming.

His mother’s smile only softened, and she shook her head gently, before she turned to Viktor who was looking at her a little bemusedly. Yuuri watched as his mother slowly lifted her free hand to cup Viktor’s uninjured cheek, very much like she had done to Yuuri, her thumb stroking gently back and forth. 

“You’ve been incredibly brave Vitya,” she murmured, jolting Yuuri a little at the use of the nickname. Viktor’s eyes grew wide for an instant before they welled with tears as the meaning of her words registered. She wasn’t talking only about tonight, but first and foremost of the last five years. Yuuri could only admire his mother’s empathy, how she never stopped in believing in either of them despite everything that happened. 

It was obvious Viktor was having trouble not crying again, but he held the tears in, offering a pained but sincere smile in answer to this woman he hadn’t seen in five years, and yet seem to have never forsaken him despite how he had hurt her son. 

Yuuri smiled at the scene, swallowing with difficulty. It felt so surreal, all of them together at this time of the night and on the terrace of the Dvornikov estate, of all places. The evening’s events made Yuuri consider the possibility that reality’s boundaries had been shoved aside in favor of something straight out of his worst nightmare and unattainable dream.

Viktor’s eyes travelled away from Hiroko, and made contact with Yuuri who stilled as he saw his name on Viktor’s lips, pronounced too softly for him to hear. Apparently not too soft for Elena because she looked down at her son, a smile on her lips. She caressed her son’s hair again, pressing a kiss on the top of his forehead and nodded in Yuuri’s direction when Viktor looked at her. 

He swallowed, visibly conflicted, but finally detached himself from his mother. Elena watched her son for a few seconds, looking just as reticent to let him go out of her sight as he had been to leave her side, before she turned to Hiroko to engulf her in a hug, later doing the same to Toshiya. 

Not that Yuuri noticed this happening very clearly, all his attention focused on Viktor approaching, the past few hours replaying on a loop in his mind, kaleidoscope of sounds and images. 

The anguish that had been clawing his insides, the hopelessness choking him and the terror tearing his heart in two. The screams, the threats, the pleading. The gun, the blows, the shot. 

He was breathing shakily, his heart ready to explode. It wasn’t a conscious decision, on either on their part. Or at least he didn’t think so. The only thing he knew, was that one moment he was watching Viktor closing the few steps between them, and the next, Yuuri was pressed against his chest, arms around his shoulders and face in the crux of his neck. 

Never had anything felt so right. Viktor was here and he was alive. Harmed and hurt, but alive. The darkness of the barrel of the gun was taunting Yuuri behind his closed eyes, making his heart hammer against his ribcage, as if trying to escape the unfathomable end it had been close to meet. Yuuri exhaled slowly, hand cupping the back of Viktor’s head like he had done after _he_ had been put down and they were safe. 

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed there, engulfed in each other’s arms. For all that his parent’s gestures had been needed and welcomed, Yuuri was just now realizing that most of all, he needed _this_. The terror of feeling himself, and worse, Viktor, close to death was still clinging to him like a second skin. Despite the exhaustion, he wouldn’t have been able to calm himself down enough to sleep if he hadn’t made sure, absolutely sure, that Viktor was safe and sound. Somehow, the fact that Yuuri had seen with his own eyes that he was safe and sound earlier with the paramedics, didn’t seem to hold value in his, at the moment very irrational, mind. 

“I’m so glad you’re ok,” he finally managed to say, voice barely above a whisper. He heard Viktor inhale shakily. “And I’m so so sorry for not telling you earlier,” he added, lump in his throat. He felt more than saw Viktor shaking his head, and his arms squeezing a little tighter, as if unable to contradict Yuuri with words. 

“Vitya, sweetheart?”

They detached themselves slowly, reluctantly and Yuuri instantly felt cold seeping through his bones. He bit his lip, eyes downcast at the sudden chill. He shared a quick look with Viktor before they both looked back towards Elena. 

“We need to go to the hospital to check those ribs,” she explained, smiling apologetically for disturbing them. 

Viktor looked back to Yuuri, expression pinched with reluctance, and the words were out of his mouth before he could think better of them. 

“Go, you need to make sure they’re not broken.” 

He hated saying it, but he felt that if he didn’t, Viktor wouldn’t move. Not that Yuuri wanted him to, but it couldn’t be helped. 

Viktor stared at him, searching his face as if he could find a reason not to leave and Yuuri felt his chest grow tight. He offered what he hoped to be a reassuring smile to convince Viktor to go with his mother, and it left his insides into knots.

Viktor finally exhaled deeply and nodded wordlessly. Yuuri let a barely audible gasp escape his lips as Viktor grabbed his hand, his eyes flying between their interwoven hands and Viktor’s face, a bit of warmth returning. Viktor offered him a smile and steered him back towards their parents. 

For the first time that night, Yuuri felt Elena’s eyes fully on him and looked up at her. She approached him and Viktor stepped aside, letting Yuuri’s hand go. He didn’t have time to ponder on that, for Elena was hugging him and he could only stand there, shell-shocked at the sensation. 

That woman had been a second mother when they were children, before she became a stranger. She had offered hugs when Yuuri was little and had troubles sleeping away from his mother when they started having sleepovers. Only that morning he had been unable to control all his resentment for her departure, and now, as if a jump back in time, she was hugging him, and the feeling was entirely foreign. 

As if on autopilot, his arms moved around her back and he let her hug him. When she finally released him, she stared at him searchingly, strong emotions swimming in her eyes once more. 

“I know you’re angry with me, and I’ll never apologize enough for what this whole situation put you through. But I’m incredibly happy to see you, Yuu-chan.” 

The air escaped his lunges softly, and he swallowed unable to answer. 

“Thank you,” she added, a meaningful look that spoke louder than her words. Yuuri closed his mouth and nodded, dazed. 

She stepped back, and Viktor easily found his way back next to her. She looked briefly to each of them with a smile and nod. Yuuri could only stare as Viktor was being led away from him, unpleasant churning in his stomach returning. He knew Viktor had to go to the hospital to get checked out. He had been the one pushing him to do so mere moments before, so why did it leave such a bitter taste in his mouth? He swallowed past the painful lump in his throat, chest tight with unnamed emotions. 

As they turned around the terrace banister, and proceeded to descend the first few steps, Yuuri started suddenly, as if jolted back into awareness. 

_I didn’t say it back._

“Viktor!”

Before he knew it, he was running, the dull pain in his back and head not registering at the moment, although he’d be sure to feel it the next day. His focus had narrowed entirely. He needed to get to Viktor, he needed to tell him before he lost his chance again. He didn’t want to lose such a hard fought chance to finally tell Viktor what he should have realized a long time ago. 

Viktor stopped short on the steps, head snapping up at Yuuri’s call, eyes wide with surprise, before he seamlessly untangled himself from his mother, and climbed back the first few steps. 

As Viktor rushed around the bannister, Yuuri had finally closed the distance between them. It all happened without conscious thought, everything falling into place like the most natural thing in the world. 

And maybe it was.

And Yuuri was reaching out, desperate to touch Viktor. His hands went up to frame Viktor’s face, and when his lips found Viktor’s, nothing had ever felt so easy, so right. It felt like coming home, and Yuuri melted into it. Viktor had snatched him close the moment Yuuri was within reach, and he reciprocated the kiss instinctively. 

It all vanished. The five years of estrangement, the vicious pain and staggering anger, the blinding confusion and impossible misunderstandings. It all disappeared the moment their lips found each other. 

Yuuri was lightheaded. There was only Viktor, his warm presence against him. There was fire in his guts, and it all flooded his system, making him feel like he was drawing his very first breath. 

They separated with a gasp, Yuuri finding Viktor’s eyes with ease. He wanted to lose himself in them, in their light. Viktor was fine, and he was here with him. He hadn’t realized he had been crying until Viktor gently brushed his thumb over the treacherous tear on his cheek. 

Yuuri was breathing shakily, arms sliding behind Viktor’s shoulders and holding onto him like a lifeline. 

“I didn’t say it back,” he whispered. 

Viktor’s brows creased for barely an instant, before his face cleared of the confusion. He smiled softly, shy hope flickering with doubts. Yuuri hated it instantly. 

Viktor caressed his cheek reverently, like Yuuri was the most precious thing in the world and it made him want to cry again. “You don’t have to.” 

Yuuri closed his eyes, shaking his head as he said, “I want to.” 

He brought his eyes to meet Viktor again, seeing there the evidence of what he now knew, and had not recognized before he was being told. He also saw fear, in the midst of the hope. The same fear Yuuri had been feeling, the one he had understood the cause of for a while, but had never allowed himself to formulate into words, even in the privacy of his own mind. He had been afraid of being hurt again, that his heart would be clawed out of his chest once more like it had been before. And then he had been afraid of losing that new found camaraderie, the ease and the contentment he had rediscovered in presence of Viktor. He had been afraid of losing him entirely. 

And then he nearly did. 

He exhaled shakily, eyes unwavering, and then a smile found his lips easily. He stood on his toes as he levelled their faces. He brushed his lips on Viktor’s, soft and reverent, slow and tender, so far from the desperate fire that had been fueling their earlier kiss. 

He moved away slowly, and saw Viktor blinking his eyes open, and his heart felt light, giddy. He had never been more certain of anything in his life. 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do my reasons make sense now...? 🙃 I wanted to maximize the feels between Viktor's reunion with his mother and then our two boys finally kissiiiing. 
> 
> I hope you liked it! Don't hesitate to let me know!! <3


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments!! I'm really glad that you enjoyed the last chapters! <3 
> 
> We're continuing the story and now dealing with the aftermath. Since there are five chapters left - including today - I was thinking of maybe just post one every day so that we can wrap up this story on Friday, before Christmas week; Let me know what you think! 
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy!

Yuuri was awake before he opened his eyes, sleep ebbing away gradually, fading into the background until the dream was all but gone. Lying on his back, he opened his eyes slowly, a sigh escaping him. He lied there, staring at the ceiling he could not actually make out, and simply let himself feel his heartbeat pulsing in his chest and the air filling and leaving his lungs rhythmically. It was soothing. 

There was just that: his heart, his breathing and the calm stillness of his room, bathed in warm sunlight. He was confused, and yet in the familiarity and the quietude of the room, it felt out of place, incomprehensible. So he just lied there. 

The events of the past few days was clear in his mind, and yet distorted, as if sheen was surrounding his memories like a veil blurring the reality. He could recall many things, but none of them appeared anything but like a dream. He wanted to know what was true and what wasn’t, and yet the simple formulation of that question left an ashy taste in his mouth. This was the strange part, he was afraid of learning the answer and he didn’t know what it meant. 

His eyes turned to the door as it slowly creeped open, before it revealed a blurry shape he nonetheless knew was his mother. After a few seconds her gaze landed on him and she smiled as she took notice that he was awake. Like on instinct, one corner of his mouth turned up at the shift but he quickly felt himself fall back into a neutral expression. 

It felt strange. This apathy. His body seemed heavy, pressed between the mattress and comforter, unable or unwilling to really move and he could only observe. His mother padded quietly towards the bed and sat on the edge, ensuring she wouldn’t hurt Yuuri before she did. He looked back at her silently as she took him in, her eyes gazing over his face, searching. He wasn’t sure what for. 

Her hand came over his head, gently smoothing his hair back and he felt himself smile minutely, leaning in the touch without much conscious thought. 

“How are you feeling?” 

He was glad she did not ask if he was alright because he did not know the answer to that. Then again, he wasn’t sure he grasped the rest of his feelings much better.  
He swallowed, musing over his words. “I’m not sure,” he eventually admitted, and was a little surprised at the scratchy edge of his voice. 

Without missing a beat, his mother had retreated her hand and had grabbed the half full glass of water propped on his bedside table before he had time to miss the physical contact. She handed him his glasses as he propped himself on his elbows, trying to straightened himself into a half decent sitting position. He grimaced, pain radiating in his side and back. 

She pushed his pillow up against the headboard to accommodate him better, before he reached out to take the glass. The water was not particularly cold but it did wonders to his throat as he gulped it hungrily, nearly choking in the process. 

“Easy,” she soothed, getting the glass from him as he coughed, the pain shooting up again. 

He fell silent again, eyes downcast on his hands, unsure what to think. It was like his brain was engulfed in thick but clear fog. It was slow and unable to come up with anything to say. 

“You slept a long time.” He looked up with questioning eyes. “It’s three in the afternoon”. 

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, but it was the only indication of his surprise. If he had slept this long then, most of what he recalled must have been true. He frowned, unable to contain his confusion. It felt so real, yet so impossible… 

It seemed his mother grasped on his internal struggle for she started giving him an explanation. 

“After we took you back, you fell asleep in the car and your father managed to put you in bed. We checked on you every hour or so, but you’ve only slept peacefully throughout the night. Well, what was left of it anyway, and half the day.”

He processed the words, realizing he didn’t remember any of that, and before he could ponder further on anything, his mouth had opened. 

“It was real then,” he whispered, unsure if it was meant to himself or his mother. She stayed silent for a few moments and he nearly started when she spoke. 

“Anatoly is in custody, and your father has been meeting with federal agencies alongside with Sherriff Leroy since this morning.” 

Yuuri was staring at her with wide eyes. Even if he had said it, he hadn’t fully grasped the situation as real. The sheen veil had still been playing tricks on his mind and now it was tearing, and the memories were all flashing behind his eyelids, in all their horrifying clarity. 

He shuddered, a shaky breath escaping his mouth. It was not so much the memories, kaleidoscope of sounds and colors playing out before him, than the emotions that they carried, suddenly sweeping over him like waters released from the restraints of a dam. 

Bile rose in his throat as he recalled the clawing panic and paralyzing terror. The darkness of that cannon zeroing in his vision, taunting him as his heart sped up. He had nearly died. Worse, Viktor had nearly died. His heart skipped a beat at the thought, and a wave of dizziness made his vision swim for a moment. The mere thought of that was nauseating. 

His hand suddenly felt warm and he snapped his eyes up, the spell broken. His mother was looking at him with a sad smile. He lowered his eyes only to realize that she had taken his hand in hers. He could only stare numbly, before inhaling sharply. That’s right. They could have died, nearly did. 

But they did not. He was here, with his heart hammering against his ribcage, and his mother reminding him that he was alright. Viktor was with his own mother, also safe and sound, and Anatoly could not hurt them anymore. He had been taken away and now they had enough to convict him, likely for life. 

He squeezed his mother’s hand, grateful for the feeling of security it gave him. He couldn’t help but feel uneasy, the conflicting emotions of his memories against the logic and rational knowledge of being out of danger. His brow furrowed as the thought triggered another memory. He turned his head to the bedside table, groping for his phone. 

“Mom, Viktor-“

“Is fine and was discharged this morning from the hospital,” his mother cut him off with a soothing tone. “No rib was broken and he only stayed the rest of the night because it was late and it was easier to monitor his concussion.” 

The relief was heady and he exhaled deeply. He still frowned, eyeing his phone. “Maybe I should call him, I mean he-“

Her hand darted to take his. “You should focus on you right now. Viktor is with his mom, both of you are safe and relatively sound,” she added, emphasizing purposefully on the last words, and it drew a smile on Yuuri’s face, and he nodded, lowering his eyes. 

Without realizing, he lapsed into silence once more, his mind reeling. His guts were still churning from the onslaught of memories assaulting him. They were relentless, making him feel small, vulnerable, powerless. It was over, why couldn’t he simply focus on that, be happy about it? 

“Mari is getting Yura from his friend’s place, to explain everything to him before he sees Elena.”

His musings were thrown off track at his mother’s words, and his eyes snapped up at her face. He knew his mouth must have fallen open but he couldn’t care less.  
“Mari’s here?” he asked, already feeling excitement fluttering in his stomach. 

His mother’s face softened and she chuckled at the childlike expression. “Yes she left her campus as soon as she heard what happened and drove all night.”  
Yuuri blinked, exhaling in amazement, before frowning in confusion. “How did she know?” 

His mother sobered minutely. “I called her when you were still inside that dreadful house,” she explained, tone heavy. 

He shuddered at the reminder of that place. It had looked sinister enough from the outside, but nothing would ever compare with what had happened inside. Yuuri shook his head, trying – vainly – to dispel the ever present chill sitting deep in his bones. 

“So she’s getting him…but wait, Yura went home after the party yesterday.”

“Mari called the housekeeper to ask if he was home. She said Yura left for lunch at his friend Otabek’s place.” Yuuri nodded in acquiescence, pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. 

“With Viktor in the hospital, we thought it best to wait before getting Yura, instead of springing this all on him in one go.”

He could imagine the explosion of epic proportions that would ensure were that the case. Then again, anyone would react badly at being told all of this, and especially in a non-sensitive manner. It was probably best Mari was there to make sure Yura was ok with being told everything. 

Unbidden, everything flashed again in his mind and he blinked his eyes close, nausea churning his guts. His mother squeezed his hand again and he could feel his eyes prickles with unshed tears. He grimaced, huffing in frustration. 

“I don’t want to cry again,” he whispered, feeling like a child and unable to help it. He levelled a glance with his mother at her sigh. She was looking at him sadly, but her eyes were full of fondness and understanding. 

“Sometimes it can’t be helped, and it might make you feel better.” 

He wasn’t sure about that, the pounding headaches he’d inherited from his last crying fit begged to differ. 

He deflated, releasing all the air in his lungs. 

“Mom, I was so scared…” he confessed, voice cracking in a sob. He didn’t attempt to stop the silent tears rolling down his cheeks as his eyes met his mother’s once more. 

“Mom I was terrified he was going to kill us both, that he was going to kill…kill Viktor.”

He had to force the last words out, and as it had already physically pained him to even think about it earlier, actually saying the words out loud was so much worse.  
He shook his head, wishing the nightmarish vision would stop imposing itself to his mind. Extracting his hand from his mother’s hold, he brushed his cheeks free of the tears. 

“Oh god,” he breathed out, looking skywards as more tears feel down. “I thought my heart stopped when he pulled that gun. I don’t… I don’t know what I would have done if he had… Mom he tried to _kill_ us, to kill his own son… I don’t…”

Sobs were wreaking his body unbidden now, and it was tearing him apart. The horror, the terror, the pain. He felt crushed underneath it all. And then he was engulfed in his mother’s embrace once more. He cried, and cried, and cried, and she didn’t let go. She never let go, not until he could stand on his own. She only held him close, petting the back of his head, and murmuring reassurances. Slowly, he calmed down, his tears drying up. Crying always left him in this hollow shell where he didn’t know up from down. He knew the imprint of the previous night’s events wouldn’t fade anytime soon. It was illusionary to wish for it to just go away, taking the cold away with it. 

He swallowed and pulled back minutely, until his mother released her embrace. She cupped his cheek and he looked above his glasses and up at her. It won’t go away just yet, but at least for now, he was ok. And Viktor was ok too. He had found his mother, he wasn’t too hurt, and he was fine. 

The thought triggered a memory that had lost itself in the sea of dark, and he couldn’t help but gasp at the warmth it gave him. 

“Mom?” She hummed in question, and he knew her attention was entirely on him, even if he had dropped his eyes once more. His chest was tight, but for the first time since he woke up, it wasn’t out of distress, and he felt lighter for it. So much lighter. He breathed in and looked up, the subtle hints of a smile fighting to play on his lips. 

He could only whisper the words, but they echoed loud and clear in his own ears, their reality sinking in so deep it was dizzying. 

“Oh of course you do Yuuchan. You’ve always loved him,” she said fondly and he could only stare in surprise, the enormity of the statement crashing upon him like a freight train. 

He gasped the air in. Of course he had. Should he cry or laugh? It was now so obvious, nothing he could ever do would be able to persuade him otherwise. Suddenly it was as if he had always known he had loved Viktor. The thought imposed itself in his mind with such natural he could only be surprised that he was so surprised that he had not realized before. 

“Viktor has always been your world,” his mother murmured, interrupting his train of thoughts. The words resonated in his mind and he frowned in consideration. 

“That’s why you were trying to tell me,” he said in realization. She cocked her head to the side in question. “Thursday, that’s what you were trying to tell me, when you were comparing my state of mind with how I was in seventh grade, after Viktor pushed me away,” he elaborated. “You said something like, my world had exploded that day, and that things hadn’t changed so much… That after seventh grade, I hadn’t cried over much anything until this week, and that it was once again over Viktor.”

He paused trying to gather his words to express himself. He hadn’t interpreted his mother’s words at all in the way she had meant them. He had thought that despite the reassurances he had offered Phichit, the promises he had tacitly made with himself, he had once again fallen prey to the hurt only Viktor could elicit. That he had been once again naïve enough to believe things could be different. 

“But that’s not what you meant was it,” he continued his thoughts out loud, barely realizing his mother was a little lost without the context. But she caught on easily as he continued. “You were trying to tell me that this was too important to let go. That the friendship we had Viktor and I, was too important to let it go.” He snapped his head up, a little frantic. “Right? That’s what you meant, right?”

She nodded. “I said Viktor was your world then, and it was probably still the case now even if you didn’t realize it. I told you I had never been more heartbroken than when you came back home that day, because you boys had grown up together and were so attuned to each other that I couldn’t see a world in which you were not together. I do not think you have ever realized it Yuu-chan, but that boy has always gravitated around you.”

He frowned. Somehow that sounded wrong. Now that he was fully taking in the enormity of his obliviousness, he felt like he was the one who had always gravitated around Viktor, like he was the sun and Yuuri the small planet always in its orbit. He suddenly recalled what Viktor had confessed the night before, at Chris’s party.  
That after Yuuri had started ignoring him, Viktor couldn’t bear it. That he _needed_ Yuuri’s attention, and that was why he had tried by every mean possible to irk him every chance he got. 

“He was such an impish and light-hearted child, he never listened,” she continued, clearly recalling the days of their childhood and Yuuri couldn’t help but smile at the next words. “You were the only one who could ever tell him to do anything. He always wanted you to pay attention to him, Elena was going crazy with his antics.”  
Yuuri was smiling but he couldn’t help the little pang in his chest. It resonated a lot with what Viktor had told him, and he was sad to see how this childhood bond had turned so sour as they grew up. 

“And Yuuri.” He gazed at her. “You were more subdued and quiet as a child, but around Viktor you positively glowed.” He felt himself blush, and he swallowed at the heartfelt words. 

How could it have been so obvious to her, and yet so obscure to him? He had never tried to put a finger on what he felt as a child, he simply felt. It was a time when it was simpler, natural and he hadn’t learnt to overthink things yet, at least when it came to his friendship with Viktor. 

“I hate how it ended up,” he let out, defeated. 

“Do you?” 

He arched an eyebrow at the knowing tone, not sure where she wanted to lead the conversation to. He was about to ask, when she beat him to it. 

“You realized you loved him. And from your display yesterday, I dare say he returns the sentiment.”

His face instantly heated up, and he grimaced. He hadn’t really paid attention to anyone around them when he had run after Viktor. He only had this gut feeling that he couldn’t let him leave again without telling him. He hadn’t thought, just acted and felt. He would never regret it, but he wouldn’t have been displeased by the lack of an audience. Or the reminder that they had had an audience. 

“I’m happy for you Yuu-chan.” 

He started, embarrassment momentarily forgotten before he allowed himself to smile. She was sporting a brilliant smile on her face, her eyes warm and twinkling as she squeezed his hand. 

He pressed his lips together, a smile of fighting its way on his lips. He released a breath. 

“I’m happy too.” 

His eyes snapped past the threshold of his room as the front doorbell rang. His mother smiled, giving him a last pat on the head before she stood up to go check who it was. 

Yuuri sighed and fell backwards in his pillows, staring at the ceiling. His head was spinning with everything that happened, it was hard to keep track. He propped himself on his elbows as a familiar voice reached him from the first floor, followed by resonant steps going up the stairs. 

Phichit appeared on the landing just outside his room and Yuuri caught the exact moment he caught sight of his face for a flash of anger crossed his expression before it settled into a deep scowl. Yuuri smiled weakly, warmth welling in his chest at the concern of his best friend. 

“Thank god you’re safe,” Phichit exclaimed as he launched himself forward. He landed on the bed, where Yuuri immediately pulled him into a bear hug, minding the bruises he knew littered his side and back. “I got so worried when I didn’t receive any news from you!”

They stayed like that for a little while, Yuuri content to simply relish on the embrace. Phichit eventually pulled back, eyeing him critically as he rested longer on the black eye and the sutures. 

“I’m ok,” he tried to reassure his friend. Phichit lifted an eyebrow, and Yuuri looked away under the gaze. Phichit scoffed at Yuuri’s pitiful attempt at deflecting the silent question. It was obvious that he bit back the sharp retort that had obviously been on his lips and Yuuri was grateful. 

“I called your dad after a while,” Phichit explained. “I knew you probably wouldn’t be looking at your phone anytime soon if you tried to talk to Viktor and probably have to deal with Anya, but I really had a bad feeling about this.” Yuuri winced at the bitter edge his voice took at the end of his explanation. “Apparently, they had already received a call from Anya’s mansion.”

Yuuri frowned up at him, silently asking who it came from, although he had an inkling of idea on the identity of the person. 

“Anya heard a _fight_ ,” Phichit resumed, emphasizing pointedly on the last word, and Yuuri just knew he wouldn’t be able to evade Phichit’s need for answers very long. Not that he had planned to hide anything, but he would gladly postpone a retell of the experience at a later date if given the chance. His mind was still reeling over it all, and despite sleeping so long, he still felt exhausted. “So she called the sheriff’s station to request help.”

If someone had told Yuuri he would likely owe his life to Anya, he would have laughed to their faces. 

“Anatoly was there.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he was about to say them. Phichit’s face lit up in understanding, before sobering just as fast and Yuuri saw his jaw clench. He knew the feeling. If their positions had been reversed, Yuuri would have been livid with burning rage. He launched himself into a somewhat sugarcoated version of the events, ignoring the bile in his stomach the entire time. Phichit’s expression told him his friend knew exactly what he was trying to do, but thankfully, he didn’t press. 

When Yuuri wrapped up his brief account, Phichit brought his hand up to delicately turn Yuuri’s head and inspect the damage closer. Yuuri let him, but pulled away at the pained grimace on Phichit’s expression. He smiled apologetically, and his friend rolled his eyes. 

“How’s Viktor?” Phichit eventually asked. Yuuri felt himself blush spectacularly and Phichit’s lips curled into a wolfish grin. 

“Oh I smell gossip,” he taunted in a silky voice, and visibly glad that there seem to have less traumatizing news to share. Yuuri had to wonder about the relativity of “less traumatizing”, especially with the face Phichit was making. “Please do tell!” 

“He’s fine, he was in the hospital yesterday to check for his ribs, but none was broken,” Yuuri wisely started with the safe piece of news. Phichit nodded seriously, but Yuuri didn’t miss the spark of mischief in his eyes. He sighed deeply. Might as well get on with it unless he wanted to suffer through Phichit’s gossip withdrawal any longer. 

He opened his mouth and found himself completely unable to say the words. Why was it easier to say them to his own _mother_ than his best friend? 

_Because she’s not going to stare at you like you’re some sort of scarlet woman –er, man? Was that a thing? – and besides, she was there when you ran to kiss your ex-bestfriend turned enemy turned love interest._

Yuuri’s face burned and he closed his eyes at the traitor laughing at his misery. 

“Come on, out with it!” 

Yuuri gritted his teeth and scrunched his nose, so annoyed at himself for reacting like a ten year old. 

“IkissedViktor.” 

Silence. He opened one eye when it lasted longer than he expected, only to be assaulted by boisterous laughter. 

“Oh my gosh! Finally!” 

Yuuri’s eyes snapped wide as saucers at that, mouth falling open in shock. 

“What do you mean ‘finally’?” he cried out, affronted. 

Phichit spared him a mock pitying look and Yuuri scowled. “Yuuri, it’s been obvious for a while.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes. “Define ‘a while’,” he demanded dryly, and Phichit chuckled at the offended tone. “Stop laughing, it’s not funny! You’re the one who kept telling me to be careful!”

Phichit calmed down, and watched Yuuri with a soft gaze that had him shift in place. 

“I did, because I was really worried he’d hurt you the same way he did back then,” he started to explain. “All he had done since I arrived at this school was becoming a right pain in the ass to you.” He took a wistful look as he continued. “But then he came to you for help. Seeing you interact together, it became so obvious. Even Chris picked up on it super quickly.”

Yuuri jolted a little at the realization. He hadn’t comprehended all the subtle looks Chris had been eyeing them both with throughout the week. It made so much more sense now! How had he managed to miss that?

_Not so much miss, as conveniently ignored._ He shook his head, refocusing on Phichit. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said a little reproachfully. Phichit raised a single eyebrow, deadpanning. 

“Tell you your own feelings?” 

Well put like that, it sure sounded stupid. Yuuri pouted and looked away. 

“Besides I did give you hints, quite frequently at that.” 

Yuuri deflated, and fell silent as he tried to go over the last week with Phichit’s perspective. If his obliviousness had frustrated him before, it exasperated him now.

“Hey,” Phichit called, touching his arm, and he looked up. “Considering your history with him, it’s not surprising you reacted the way you did.” Yuuri pursed his lips and nodded a little helplessly. 

“It feels so…,” he trailed off, unsure of which word could accurately describe it. Phichit remained quiet, content to just let Yuuri work out his words. He exhaled, a giddy feeling so vastly different from the gutting cold he had experienced earlier as he recalled the trauma of the night before, making him want to smile.

“It just feels so obvious,” he admitted, looking up at Phichit who was smiling softly. Yuuri knew his cheeks must be dusted pink but he didn’t look away. “I don’t understand why it took me so long to admit, because it seems impossible to _unfeel_ it now, it’s just there.”

Phichit let out a breathy chuckle, grabbing Yuuri’s hand and giving it a squeeze. 

“I think you’ve always had feelings for him,” he said, eliciting a small surprise quirk of eyebrows from Yuuri. His friend’s words echoed his mother’s so closely that it was maddening to think that he had managed to lie to himself for so long while they had been better informed of his own heart. 

“I’m not saying that it would have hurt less had you not have any other feelings than friendship for him when you guys had a falling out, but there was just something so raw and so deep about it,” he explained, eyes glazing over as he seemed to recall these times. “I didn’t realize it as such at first of course, but I didn’t have any more doubt this week.”

Yuuri smiled a bit bashfully. “At Chris’ party, he told me he loved me,” he murmured, the words foreign on his tongue, making his head swim. He heard Phichit’s little gasp and he smiled. “I think it hit me then… He told me a lot of things yesterday, that just…” he breathed in deeply. “I felt so overwhelmed, I had no idea how to react… I just felt like the most terrible person ever, because he trusted me so much, and several times this week he’d been so honest with me while all I’d done was go behind his back…” He gave Phichit a look when he saw his friend was about to protest. “You know what I mean; that’s what it felt like, no matter the circumstances. But then Anya just came in, and things went completely awry from there,” he finished with only a hint of bitterness. 

Phihcit squeezed his hand again and he smiled, lips pursing before he let out the next words. 

“I told him I loved him too,” he said quietly. Phichit’s widened comically and he gasped.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, engulfing Yuuri into another hug. “That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you.” Yuuri laughed, hugging back.

Phichit pulled back slowly and cooed. “Oh no don’t cry!” 

“I can’t help it,” Yuuri retorted good-naturedly, smiling through the traitorous tears that just had to make a show of themselves again. “I keep crying these days,” he added, rolling his eyes. “I just… It was just so _stressful_ , and it kept getting worse and impossible to manage. And yesterday… I’ve never been more scared of anything in my entire life… I thought I was going to die! And that wasn’t the worst,” he trailed off, exhaling a shaky breath. He closed his eyes as he breathed in and out slowly. 

No matter how many times he told the tale, it seemed he wouldn’t be able to go through it without relieving the intense horror that came with it. 

“I thought Viktor was going to die,” he let out, and his voice, barely above a whisper, cracked as he pronounced his name. “I was _terrified_ , because suddenly I realized that I could lose him for good, and I don’t… I don’t think I would have survived it… God I sound like a drama queen,” he bit out, rolling his eyes again. 

Phichit had distress marring his face and he was shaking his head vehemently. “No Yuu, you don’t! That’s totally understandable, and it just goes to show how much you care about him.”

Yuuri offered a weak smile through his tears. “I’m just really glad we’re ok…” 

Phichit laughed, rubbing Yuuri’s arms up and down in a comforting gesture. 

“Understatement of the year!” Yuuri smiled as he rubbed his eyes. “So, what now?”

Yuuri pursed his lips, letting out an incredulous chuckle as he said, “Good question.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're focusing on Yuuri, but we'll hear more about Viktor's recovery later too :) 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and let me know if you'd rather I go with the MWF schedule, or one everyday and what you thought of the chapter! <3


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to post all remaining chapters this week! :) 
> 
> I've realized by reading last chapter's comments that maybe you were expecting that I switch POV to go into Viktor and Yura's reactions - I didn't. We're staying exclusively in Yuuri's POV but I found a loophole around that so that he does know what happens with the brothers. 
> 
> Another thing the chapters from the end of the confrontation at the house to the end of that story, have been pretty hard-fought. I had no idea how to end it, and nothing felt right for a while.  
> Maybe you were expecting to jump faster to the end, but expect delving into the aftermath of what happened with Anatoly (emotionally speaking mostly) up to chapter 33. 
> 
> I have no other way to explain it than by saying it felt right and necessary. I couldn't brush over it (I tried, and it didn't work, I was stuck for months, it _wanted_ to be written). It just flowed. 
> 
> Anyway, without further ado, happy reading!

It took a while but he eventually managed to get out of bed, put on sweat pants and a long-sleeve t-shirt, before he padded down the stairs, Phichit in tow, to join his mother in the living room. 

A circular glance in the room told him the rest of his family was not in the house. His mother greeted him with a smile as she got up from the couch and put down the book she had been reading. 

“Are you hungry?” she asked as she was already on her way to the kitchen. Yuuri opened his mouth to answer when his stomach rumbled loudly. 

“Well I guess that answers the question,” his mom commented, chuckling softly, while Phichit bust out laughing. Yuuri pushed him with a mock glare before taking a seat on one of the bar stool, Phichit coming behind him, snaking his arms around his neck and put his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri felt warmed at the gesture, smiling as he leaned into the embrace, his hands coming up to wrap around his friend’s forearm. 

His mother had her back to them, as she faced the now open rice cooker. As she turned, she held a bowl of steamy white rice topped with a raw egg on top, and Yuuri’s eyes sparkled. She deposited the soy sauce next to the bowl, and handed him chopsticks.

“Oh I know this!” Phichit exclaimed with delight, as he released Yuuri. 

Yuuri laughed out right. “Yeah, but you never remember the name,” he teased, which earned him a mock glare. 

“Yes I do, something with tamago!”

Yuuri quirked an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, while his mother chuckled at Phichit’ enthusiasm.

“Close, but you’re still missing part of it,” she told him gently. 

Yuuri snorted. “Close? He’s missing like two thirds!” Phichit lightly slapped his arm, pretending to be very focused on Hiroko. 

“Tamago kake gohan Phichit,” she said, sparing an amused look in Yuuri’s direction as she settled a second bowl on the counter for his friend. Phichit squealed in delight and came to sit next to Yuuri. 

“This is like the best comfort food ever!” he cheered, already pouring far too much soy sauce in his bowl. “Besides my mum’s pad thai of course.” Yuuri snorted, and went to try and grab the soy sauce from Phichit’s hands before he emptied it on his rice. 

Hiroko chuckled at the boys antics, and was reminded why it was Phichit who had enabled Yuuri to slowly come out of the slump he had fallen into several years ago. She placed two cups of Hojicha in front of them, and leaned against the counter with her arms crossed, content to just let the boy work his magic. 

“Oh come on Phich, gimme that!”

“Yuuri calm down, you’re going to fall off your stool,” his mother admonished lightly, as he finally managed to grab the sauce from his smirking friend.

The sound of the door opening shifted Yuuri’s attention. Momentarily forgetting the circumstances that brought her home, Yuuri felt himself smiling widely upon noticing his sister. 

“Ah Mari, okaeri,” their mother intoned as her daughter put down her bag.

“Tadaima,” she answered automatically, smiling up at her mother. Yuuri could pinpoint the exact moment her eyes fell on him because, very similarly to Phichit’s reaction earlier, the smile died from her lips and fury took over her features.

Had it not been his sister standing in front of him, Yuuri swore he would have shuddered. He met her eyes and shrugged slowly, his lips pursed in a way of saying “what can I do?”

She deflated, sighing deeply before closing the space in a few strides and engulfing him in a hug. Yuuri automatically held her back, forgetting to be surprised at the sudden show of affection. Mari was perhaps the least touchy feely person he knew, but she knew when to make exceptions, and just like he had with the rest of his family so far, Phichit included, Yuuri relished in it. 

“You fucking scared us, ba-ka,” she whispered, her cheek settled on the top of his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself not to think back on the previous night again. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” His voice didn’t waver, and there was that. She eventually let him go, clinically but not unkindly turning his head to inspect the damage and he couldn’t help but smile. He felt like everyone had been doing the exact same thing over and over.

“You look like shit,” she let out, blunt as ever. Well, perhaps not exactly the same thing. Yuuri shook his head in amusement. She didn’t add anything though, and simply ruffled his hair as she circled around the counter, joining their mother on the other side of it, and giving a slap on Phichit’s shoulder’s as she went.

Yuuri clearly saw the wince even though his friend didn’t make a sound, and he turned back to face his bowl, eagerly digging in the comfort food.

“Is dad still at the station?” Mari asked as she was helping herself with ice tea.

“Yes, it’s unlikely to end anytime soon at the rate it’s going,” their mother answered, leaning back on the sink counter with her arms crossed. Yuuri had a glimpse of the expressionless mask she had harbored the previous morning, and pursed his lips, not liking it. 

“So… what now? What’s going to happen to Elena, Viktor, Yuri and …Anatoly?”

He restrained from mentally slapping himself at the hesitation, and thankfully no one commented on it. The change in atmosphere was obvious however. His question was met with a very short, yet heavy silence, as if everyone had suddenly paused. 

“I don’t want details…” he quickly added, not even surprised that he meant it. Even before he had seen Elena in his living room, the thrill of solving a complicated case had melted like snow under the sun. He simply needed to know that it was going to be fine. Despite Elena’s reassurances regarding Anatoly’s severely severed connections, he couldn’t help but worry that he might still wriggle out of it. 

Mari’s calm and composed demeanor had not budged, and she went from watching Yuuri to their mother as she kept on drinking her tea. He was aware that Phichit was doing all he could to not utter a sound, and seemed to find the content of his bowl even more interesting than before he could even pronounce the dish name properly. 

“I don’t know about Anatoly,” his mother started, and Yuuri was impressed at the neutrality in her tone. “I’m not teaching you anything when I tell you this affair was complicated.” He snorted at that. “That’s why your father is still busy sorting everything out with the federal agencies,” she continued, unperturbed by his interruption. “As for Elena, she found a loophole to Anatoly’s attempt at keeping her away from their boys. It should be made official after a procedural court hearing, but both Viktor and Yuri are under her sole custody now.” 

Yuuri let out a breath, relieved joy washing over him. It probably wouldn’t be easy to repair what had been broken, but that was a first step, especially everything they’d all been through.

“How was Yura?” Mari turned her attention to him, and took in a deep breath as her eyebrows rose while she considered the question.

“He was…Yura, I guess,” she let out, eyes downcast. “He was pretty surprised to see me. He looked happy for a whole second and a half before he immediately looked suspicious. He’s worse than you, Yuu,” she added with a smirk. Phichit snorted, and Yuuri had to restrain himself from slapping his arm again, the traitor.

“I brought him to that park we used to go as kids, and sat with him near the pond you and Viktor always sat by.” He nodded in understanding, and looked curiously at her as she paused. “Let’s just say he was…shocked.” That sounded like a gross underestimation, but Yuuri kept his mouth shut. “He didn’t say anything for a while after I explained why Elena left, but he nearly went down into a panic attack when I told him what happened to you and Viktor last night. I’m glad I had experience with helping you when you were younger,” she said, sparing a look in his direction and Yuuri nodded despite his wince. His insides felt tight again, imagining very well how it must have felt for Yura to be told all of this. “He didn’t calm down at all after coming out of it, but at least this time he was angry instead of hyperventilating. I’m pretty sure I was re-educated on the English language curse words vocabulary,” she explained wryly.

“That sounds about right,” Phichit muttered under his breath.

“I think the hardest was when I finally took him to the hotel in which Elena had brought Viktor after he was discharged from the hospital. He fell to his knees and sobbed when his mother opened the door.” 

She felt silent for a few moments. Yuuri observed his sister’s face, knowing that even if she wasn’t showing anything, the day must have been emotionally taxing.

“Elena picked him up from the floor, and damn that woman is strong. I know Yura’s petite, but he’s still fifteen. He latched onto her like she would disappear right before his eyes… Can’t really blame him,” she added a little bitterly, and Yuuri couldn’t help but smile minutely. It wasn’t surprising that he wasn’t the only one feeling a little resentment against Elena’s departure, even knowing why she had done it. “I didn’t want to intrude at first, but Viktor told me to come in. He looked just as bad as you do by the way.” 

Was he dreaming or was his sister taking every possible opportunity to insult him? The flippant tone she used told him she was teasing, and that it was likely her way to let him know about Viktor. Not that hearing about how terrible he looked would have been even remotely reassuring coming from literally anyone else’s mouth, but somehow from Mari, it made Yuuri feel better. Go figure. 

“I don’t think I ever remember seeing Yura hug Viktor.”

“They hugged?” Phichit blurted out. Knowing the rather strained relationship the siblings shared, hearing about them hugging and especially if the one initiating it was Yura, sounded quite insane. 

Mari nodded as she took a sip of her tea. “I think he may have worsened Viktor’s bruising if loverboy’s grimace was of any indication.”

Yuuri’s expression morphed into one of abject horror at the implication of his sister’s words, or maybe because of the shit-eating grin she was sporting, and he felt the blood rush to his face for what felt like the umpteenth time. 

“Mom!” he exclaimed indignantly, head snapping towards their mother and fixing her with a glare. He was aware that a) he sounded like a petulant child, b) Phichit had nearly fallen off his stool laughing and c) his mother didn’t give a damn about his misery as she shrugged serenely.

“I can’t believe this… Shut up you traitor, stop laughing!” he tried to slap Phichit who was lost to the rest of the world in his hilarity. 

“Relax dude,” Mari teased with a smirk. “It’s not like you could tell me anything that would ever shock me.” 

Yuuri deflated on his chair, staring at her in disbelief at the blatant disregard for his internal misery. Not that that was surprising, but still. 

“Anyway,” she continued on a more serious note. “Mission accomplished and now I can’t wait for the bastard to end up in jail for the rest of his life. Or worse. Worse would be nice too.”

Their mother eyed Mari disapprovingly for good measure, even if they all knew that if Hiroko ever got her hands on said bastard, sending him to Russia to the mafia family he’d just ruined would be a mercy. 

It was her that broke the more comfortable silence that fell upon them, and Yuuri started. 

“Yuuchan, do you feel up for your grand-parents to come up?”

His brows knitted together for a second, puzzled at the sudden question.

“They didn’t want to overcrowd you. They know what happened of course, and your Ojichan had to wrestle Obachan back to their house when she started screaming like a demented banshee that she was going to–” she abruptly cut herself off, and the look that passed through her eyes told Yuuri enough of what his grandmother had likely been saying. He was undecided whether he should be laughing or cowering in a corner. “Well sufficed to say, he thought you needed a little space before they came up to see you. Your Obachan couldn’t rest until she at least saw you, but you were sleeping when she visited.”

A wave of warmth washed over Yuuri at the thoughtfulness of both his grandparents. Not that he was surprised, they always showed their love in such ways, but it never failed to move him. He couldn’t help feeling the small tingles of guilt at the thought that they must have been awake quite late waiting for him to come home, but he dispelled them as best he could, shaking his head as he refocused on his mother. 

“Yes for sure, or maybe I should come down and see them?” 

His mother’s face took an expression of horror. “Absolutely not, Obachan would have my skin if I allowed you to move around too much. She barely trusted me enough to take care of you myself,” she added with amusement. “I think the only thing that persuaded her was that she was the one who taught me how to.”

He smiled as Mari snorted. That sounded like their grandma. 

***

Yuuri had barely got to the bottom of his bowl when the door busted open, making him drop his chopsticks and Phichit yelp. Both his mother and Mari had gone to the onsen in order to relieve their grandparents from their work so that they could go see Yuuri. It was unfortunately the big downside of owning such a business; it was always a flurry of activity that outside staff alone couldn’t entirely support by themselves. Yuuri knew his mother had thought of hiring more, but with their current budget, three full-time and one part-time was the best they could afford. 

“Watashi no Yuuchan doko?”

Yuuri’s eyes grew wide at the sight of his grandmother, standing akimbo in the entrance of the house, eyes glazing. Phichit wisely lowered himself from his stool and went to stand behind Yuuri who only managed to throw him a dirty look before his grandma had strode over to him and he visibly shrunk in his seat. 

She halted, close enough to touch him, her hands hovering around his face and shoulders but never actually closing the gap further. He relaxed minutely at the worry he detected in her eyes, the frown she sported. He mustered what he hoped would be perceived as a reassuring smile and reached out to take her hands, squeezing them reassuringly. 

“Daijoubu,” he said softly, meeting her gaze. The concern barely abated, and he thinned his lips, smile still in place. “Hontodayo.” 

She sighed deeply, eyes narrowing slightly as she took back her left hand to cup his unharmed cheek. She stayed silent for what felt like an eternity to Yuuri, but he didn’t move. 

He didn’t say a word either, allowing her to get the reassurance she needed. Seeing the deeply seated worry first hand, he felt guilty. He hadn’t thought about what his family when he went after Viktor. He hadn’t stopped to consider how they would react, how they would feel if anything were to happen to him. And yet, he knew that if roles had been reversed, he would have been trembling with anguish at the mere thought. The lingering terror he could still recognize seeping deep into his guts for Viktor was telling enough. 

He swallowed with difficulty, and his breath hitched when he was taken in an uncharacteristically soft embrace. He resisted the urge to cry once again. Why did he keep crying? 

_Concussion, you dumbass_ , was his brain helpful answer and instead of dwelling on it, he let himself relax in his grandmother’s arms. She never hugged for very long, but it usually was enough to convey all the unsaid and he smiled up at her when she released him. Her thumb stroke his unharmed cheek gently as her eyes trailed over the bruise and the stiches on the other side of his face and he couldn’t help but lower his eyes at the mixture of worry and anger he saw in her eyes. 

His grandfather approached behind her, and he sighed deeply as he took sight of Yuuri’s face. Not that he should have expected they wouldn’t, but seeing every family member exhibit their worry one after the other only served to make his guilt grow exponentially as he realized just what they must have felt while he was out there. He bit his lip to cut that particular train of thought short and forced himself to look his grandfather in the eye. He was sporting a sad smile and that at least was better than the protective anger still etched on his grandmother’s face. 

“I’m sorry.” The words were out of his mouth before he thought better of them and his grandfather’s eyes softened.

“Ayamaranaide,” he countered, his tone brooking no argument. “You helped your friend and now you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

Yuuri felt his lips twitch up at the matter of fact of his grandfather’s statement, but it didn’t really relieve his guilt much. His grandmother nodded along, but felt compelled to put her two cents in. 

“But if you ever do that again I will flay you alive, iika?” 

He distinctively heard Phichit choke, but whether it was from shock or laugher it was anyone’s guess, and he gulped, staring at her with wide, sheepish eyes. At least her intervention had the advantage of diffusing the rampant tension in the room and he felt himself smiling. 

He followed his grandmother’s line of sight when he noticed her looking towards the counter. “You need to stay hydrated,” she declared, eyebrows raised. “No more tea, drink _water_.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a smile, which she eyed him in mock warning, humming. 

The afternoon seemed to flow seamlessly from there. They all lounged in the living room, chatting away the intensity of the previous night’s events. Yuuri felt compelled to drink every single glass of water his grandmother kept setting in front of him each time he finished the previous one. He told himself he was only indulging her need to fuss, but the tacit reason fell more along the lines of _my brain isn’t as damaged yet as to ignore the dark looks she gives me whenever I ignore the glass a little too long_. 

He had to admit it helped somewhat, with the headache he was nursing since he woke up and had eagerly been ignoring so far, but it was obvious to everyone in the room that he felt himself grow more tired as the hours dragged on. 

It was around five when Phichit announced he should probably get going. “Will you be at school on Monday – I mean tomorrow?” he inquired, after gesturing to Yuuri that he should stay put instead of seeing him to the door. 

He opened his mouth, but frowned when he realized he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember if the medic that had seen to his injuries after last night’s fiasco had said anything about that. 

“Probably not Yuuchan,” his grandfather interjected, drawing Yuuri’s attention. “Your father said it wasn’t a severe concussion, but the medic advised you rest for a couple of days. I think you’ll have to see how you feel tomorrow evening and decide whether to go or not.”

The first thought that crashed in Yuuri’s head was “when do I see Viktor?” and he shook his head to dispel it. Instead he nodded slowly, before looking at Phicht.

“I’ll send you a text to let you know,” he told him. “Keep your phone close, I’ll probably get bored out of my mind doing nothing and spam you all day,” he added with a wry smile. 

Phichit laughed, and Yuuri ignored the very unlady-like snort coming from his grandmother, which was followed by a “You’ll be sleeping is what you’ll be doing.”

“Alright I’ll see you then,” his friend said as he engulfed Yuuri into yet another hug that he gave back easily. 

Phichit was at the door when Yuuri remembered something. “Oh Phich! If Chris asks you, can you tell him what happened?” he asked when Phichit turned to him. “I mean, Viktor would probably have told him already, but I promised I would explain exactly what happened, and you’ll see him before I do, so just in case?”

“Yes for sure, no worries,” he agreed easily with a smile that turned wry with his next words. “You could also call him you know?”

Yuuri grimaced at the thought of repeating the story yet again. Phichit caught on and he nodded, winking at Yuuri. “Got it.”

“Thanks, you’re the best!”

Phichit was laughing when he replied: “And don’t you forget it.”

Yuuri shook his head for good measure at his friend’s perpetual antics, feeling infinitely grateful that he had him in his life. 

“You should go and rest Yuuchan,” his grandfather suggested softly after Phichit had left. His first instinct was to say no, but he couldn’t very well ignore the way his eyelids had grown increasingly heavy in the past hours. He was drowsy and he hadn’t tried particularly hard to hide it. In fact his entire body felt heavy, as if he was filled with lead and no energy whatsoever to move his limbs. 

He sighed. “Yes, probably right about that.”

“Alright come on, I’ll tuck you in,” his grandmother said, all business as she shot to her feet with the energy of a woman thirty years younger. Yuuri followed her with his eyes briefly, an eyebrow raised as he exchanged an amused look with his grandfather.

“Thank you for coming to see me Ojichan,” Yuuri said as he leaned to the side to kiss his grandfather on the cheek. The older man made a sound that was half-huff half-laugh, as he shook his head. 

“As if you need to thank us for that.” Yuuri smiled in response, before trying to get himself off the couch. 

He groaned as he pushed himself up, all his muscles screaming and the ache in his side and back returning full force. He cursed under his breath all the way up to his room, and if the chuckles he heard coming from behind his back were anything to go by, he hadn’t been as discrete as he’d intended. 

When he arrived to his room, his grandmother had yet another glass of water on his bedside table and he forgone the effort to try and figure out when he had seen her take one up in favor of sitting on his bed. 

“No, no up with you,” she admonished when she caught sight of him. He winced, screwing his eyes shut like a petulant child, groaning his protests. “You have to get into pajamas, come on.” 

He huffed as he pushed himself up once more and grabbed the fresh set she handed him. Again he didn’t try to figure out how the hell she knew where he put his pajamas. “Stay here to change, I’ll go get you an aspirin for the pain.”

It took an embarrassingly long time for him to change, grimacing every time he moved too fast and the movement jarred with the bruises and contusions. Had it been this painful when he’d changed earlier? He probably had Phichit to thank for the distraction. He gritted his teeth through most of it, and cursed shamelessly the rest of it until he finally managed to pass the shirt above his head and he let out a relieved sigh, letting himself drop on the edge of his bed. His grandmother knocked then, letting herself in after Yuuri’s verbal confirmation that he was indeed changed. 

She gave him an approving look, as she came to grab the glass, handing him the aspirin and the water, in that order. He dutifully swallowed the pill and handed back the glass, before he went to settle himself under the covers properly. His body molded wonderfully into the mattress and he felt all his muscle relax at once. The exhaustion caught up with him at once, and if that wasn’t shocking in and of itself, the extent of it did take him by surprise and he sighed deeply when he was finally propped against his pillows. Despite the early hour, he knew that he would likely fall asleep right there and then if he didn’t do anything, and he went to grab his phone on the bedside table. 

“You shouldn’t spend too long on your phone Yuuchan.” He looked up questioningly. “You need rest and the screen is only going to overstimulate your brain and worsen your concussion.” 

How she knew that, he didn’t know, and he could only purse his lips. “Can I just quickly send a few messages to my friends? I’ll turn it off afterwards I promise.”

It was obvious she didn’t really approve, but she nodded before leaning down to settle the comforter over him properly. He felt himself smiling, the same nostalgia than when his mother took him in her arms when he woke up taking over him and back to his childhood.

“There you go Yuuchan,” she said softly, kissing his forehead like she used to do when she tucked him in when he was younger. She seemed to realize it when she smiled at him with a hint of impishness in her eyes. 

She shuffled back to the door, turning slightly to spare him a last look. “Rest.” Yuuri let out a chuckle. “Haaii!” 

She huffed, obviously amused, before closing the door gently behind her. 

Yuuri was once more alone in the silence of his room, and he couldn’t help but feel it jarring compared to the flurry of attention he had received since he came out of that dreadful house. 

He wasn’t sure whether he was glad for the silence, or if he’d have welcomed another person’s company. He felt the need to sleep settling bone-deep over him, but the quiet of the room was slightly unnerving. It left too much space to think and inevitably it would bring him back to the events of the night before. If there was one thing he would rather avoid being left alone with right now, the memories of last night definitely qualified. 

He tried to relax his pinched expression, focusing down on his phone instead. He hesitated for barely a second before going to Chris’ chat. Despite his earlier reluctance to explain everything himself again, it didn’t feel right to leave it up to Phichit, especially since he’d promised Chris. He didn’t have the energy to call him at the moment, but he figured that shooting him a text to tell him he hadn’t forgotten his promise couldn’t hurt. 

**Hi, Chris, sorry for being M.I.A since last night. Maybe Viktor already told you what happened, but if he hasn’t, don’t worry I promise that I’ll explain everything as soon as we see each other. It won’t be tomorrow, I have to stay at home, but maybe if I’m better by then, I’ll come back Tuesday. It’s nothing bad, just a concussion.**

He reread the message a last time, figuring he didn’t need to go over all the bruises and the stitches just yet. He pressed send and didn’t wait for the reply before exiting the chat to look for the next one. He had been pretty sure no one else actually knew what had occurred the night before, so he was vaguely surprised to see several notifications. 

Seung-Gil was the most recent and he wasn’t sure whether to frown or smile. He never would have imagined he’d get close to the usually standoffish student, and to realize that even more good had come out of missing dogs that he’d originally thought was a nice feeling. 

**11:23pm**  
**Hey Yuuri. You looked a little troubled at the party, and Emil told me you had left when I tried checking up on you. Hope everything’s fine.**  
**10:14am**  
**Hey again. I asked Phichit directly. He was pretty evasive but I gathered that something happened after you left and that you ended up a bit hurt. I hope it’s not too bad. Feel better.**

Yuuri was smiling now at the thoughtfulness of the messages. He typed his reply pretty quickly, reassuring his…friend that everything was alright now even though he’d likely miss out on Monday’s classes. 

He received a thumbs up emoji in the midst of typing a reply to Yuuko who somehow was aware of what happened as well, how exactly, he didn’t know and didn’t really care. He repeated the generic answer to Minami’s **ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!?!** , a fond smile playing on his lips as he did so. His eyebrows shot to his hairline at the next notification.

**9:46am**  
**My dad told me what happened yesterday. You are definitely one of the most insane person I know. I’ve seen your dad this morning; I’m glad you’re alright.**

He barked out a disbelieving laugh upon reading JJ’s message. If Seung-Gil’s had surprised him, this one shocked him to a whole new level.  
He decided to go with an alleviating-the-seriousness-of-the-situation type of answer, and quickly typed **I’ll take that as a compliment. Thanks JJ.** before sending it. 

Upon exiting the chat, his phone buzzed, and his heart missed a bit when his eyes fell on the name of the sender, an involuntary smile blooming on his lips. 

**5:36pm**  
**Hi Yuuri. I’m sorry I’m only sending this now, but I swear I could not get out of my bed today… My mom had to drag me up into a seating position to put some food into me.**  
**I thought about calling, but I realized maybe you were in the same state as me, and figured it could wait until our heads aren’t filled with wool any longer.**

Yuuri let out a laugh at that, agreeing wholeheartedly with the sentiment. 

**I don’t know if you’ll even see this today or if you’ll end up sleeping the day away like I plan on continuing to do, but I don’t know, I just wanted to make sure that in case you didn’t, you didn’t think I just forgot to talk to you.**

He felt his eyes sting uncomfortably at that. He had no idea how he managed to forget how thoughtful Viktor was. Yet again, he surprised him with a small gesture that meant more than Yuuri could articulate into words. He squashed down the mean voice in his mind whispering Viktor was the one who had yet again made the first step, to focus on the rest of the message. 

**I saw your sister yesterday, she came to drop Yura off. He hugged me. I don’t think I remember the last time he hugged me. He cried himself to sleep too, but it was the good kind of crying for once. We all fell asleep on the king size, mom between the two of us and her arms around our shoulders. I panicked when I woke up, I thought I dreamed it all.**

Being able to see right through computerized words on a screen may sound clearly impossible, Yuuri could easily spot the understatement in the last sentence. He could only imagine the turmoil of waking up after being reuniting with his mother after such a long time and imagining it was all a dream. And that was without adding the trauma stemming from their confrontation with Anatoly. 

**She calmed me down though, and I ended up falling right back asleep. That’s pretty much what I’ve been doing ever since: exhausting myself panicking, falling back asleep, and repeat. Five minutes ago was the first time that I woke up calm and I’m grateful for the reprieve. I hope your day was less batshit crazy. I won’t be coming to school tomorrow, but I’m guessing you won’t either. If I don’t end up sleeping the entire day, maybe I could try and call you? If you’re ok with that?**

The hesitation in the words was glaring and Yuuri felt his heart squeeze at how insecure Viktor sounded. After the bold declaration of the night before, it was quite the contrast, but all he could think about was how his own behavior was probably the source of that insecurity. Guilt and shame warred to take precedence and he bit his lip to try and ignore them. 

**Anyway, I hope you’re alright, or I mean, not feeling too bad and that you can rest until you feel better.**

He had reached the end of the message when it buzzed again and he let out disbelieving laugh. Warmth filled him up, awe and affection squeezing his heart. 

**5:39**  
**I love you.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that the loophole to gather info on Viktor and Yura's state of mind was to your liking haha :) We'll have more of similar stuff in the next chapters. 
> 
> Here are the Japanese translations:  
> [Tamago Kake Gohan](https://asianinspirations.com.au/recipes/egg-on-rice-tamago-kake-gohan/): is a Japanese dish perfect as comfort food (I personally love it).  
> Okaeri(nasai) & Tadaima: I'm guessing you know these but just in case - customary greetings when you come back home, and the rest of the family/friends welcome you back (respectively)  
> Watashi no Yuuchan doko: Where's my Yuuchan?  
> Daijoubu: literally means safe/secure; in context it's more like "It's alright/I'm alright";  
> Hontoudayo: hontou is truth/reality/actuality and in this context used to say "really/I promise"; 'da' is the just the verb copula, which would equate to a verb in English (if you extrapolate) and 'yo' is just a way to emphasize what you're saying.  
> Ayamaranaide: imperative form of ayamaru, meaning apologize so literally, 'don't apologize'.  
> iika: in this case equivalent of 'understood?'  
> Hai: I think you might all know that, but oh well - means 'yes'. 
> 
> Also, the fact that I made pad thai Phichit's favorite dish might be a bit stereotypical, but I picked it cause I had a traditional Japanese dish for Yuuri's comfort food, and I thought it'd be nice to have the same for Phichit, consequentially, I very seriously googled "Thai comfort food" - not sure whose perspective it was, but I absolutely love pad thai so yeah. 
> 
> I think that's it for me! Stay tuned for the next chapters and as always, don't hesitate to let me know what you think! <3


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer and closer to the end!! :3

_The gun cut through the air and Yuuri felt his chest seizing, the canon suddenly straight in front of his line of vision. Its unfathomable darkness pulling him in, snatching his breath away, stopping his heart for a beat as terror clawed his chest._

_Cold, sharp blue-eyes burning with an enraged fury. Face distorted by mad scorn, a snarl glaring insanity. Insults spat, laced with venom. Wide, irrational arms swinging around, holding a loaded gun. Terror sizzling in the air like electricity, tightening muscles, turning blood into ice, world spinning._

_“You’re mad”_

_A hit, a scream, a fall. Dark red blooming over alabaster._

_Anatoly was grasping Viktor by his air, a whine turning in a scream of pain. Viktor went to hold the strained strands of hair and his father’s wrist, but dropped everything as a particularly hard pull made him lose balance and he fell to his side. Anatoly kicked him hard in his ribcage and Viktor cried out._

_A shot fired but this time, Anatoly doesn’t fall. Viktor does. Yuuri’s heart turns to stone, falls in his stomach. There’s no air. He can’t breathe. Someone’s screaming. His throat is raw, scorched. His knees hit something. Pain radiates. There’s red everywhere. He can’t see his hands. It’s red and blurry. Gasping for air. Cold._

Yuuri gasped awake, his heart hammering so fast in his chest he couldn’t separate the beats. A sob teared its way through his lips. He was going to be sick. His erratic movements crashed him to the floor, the impact radiating in his legs up to his hips. 

Staggering, he made his way to the bathroom out in the hallway, nearly falling against the walls several times as the tears in his eyes rendered his already poor eyesight near useless. Pushing the bathroom door open, he fell to his knees once more, ignoring the flaring pain burning his kneecaps, and he heaved in the bowl. As he emptied the content of his stomach, tears continued trailing down his cheeks, sobs racking his frame. Even when there was nothing else to empty, Yuuri continued heaving, bile burning his throat. 

It seemed to last forever and all he could register was the pain. Not the physical pain. This one was ignored, easily discarded, discounted as irrelevant. No, it was the emotional pain that tore his insides apart, made every tear burn its trail down his cheeks, made every sob feel like a thousand. He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath, to no avail. 

There had been so much blood. It had been everywhere, covering his hands, covering the floor, covering Viktor. A virtual pool of it, and in the middle, the unmoving form of Viktor. His Viktor. Eyes open and glassy, unseeing, dead. 

A violent heave broke him in half again.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. It couldn’t be. The pale skin had been whiter than white. Nearly translucent. Gone were the rosy cheeks, and the soothing, comforting warmth. It was void of colors and cold. Dead. 

Yuuri fought the next heave, a sob wracking him instead. 

He flinched when hands came to rest on his back, nearly falling next to the toilet. The figure slowly crouched down to his level, murmuring words he couldn’t make sense of. It sounded like a buzzing in his ears, echoing faintly in his skull, nagging his senses. His head was swimming.

“Yuuri!”

He jerked to awareness, vision finally focusing on the now close face of the figure. _Mari_. 

“You’re hyperventilating.” A warm palm settled in his, squeezing gently. “Breath with me. In. Out. Yes you can. In and Out. Come on again, you can do it.”

The words were calm. They were spoken in a stern, though not unkind tone, brooking no argument, and somehow, air finally breached his closed up airways and he _breathed_. 

It came in gasps at first, before settling as he continued to follow Mari’s guidance, the swimming sensation in his head slowly receding. 

Yuuri searched for his sister, but she had straightened a little away, and she was blurry again.

“Alright, that’s it. You’re doing it.” 

He could only see a blurry shape, but it was unmistakable. Dyed hair, piercing reflecting light at the minor movement, tobacco smell. 

“He was dead,” he gasped, tears continuing to spill over. “He was dead, Mari, he was dead.”

She didn’t need a translation. Without even seeing her face, he knew she had understood, for a second later he was pressed against her, and she was cradling the back of his head with one hand, the other moving up and down his back firmly. The pressure helped, and he felt himself relax minutely.

“It was just a dream. Viktor’s fine. He’s alive, you’re alive, and no one can hurt either of you,” she whispered, her tone invalidating any counter-argument. “He’s alive and safe. He’s alive and safe.” She kept repeating that over and over until Yuuri ran out of tears to cry and he was left sniffling occasionally, eyelids heavy and eyes dry. 

He didn’t move for a while, unable to do more than breathe shakily as Mari ran her hand up and down his back. Perhaps had he been more coherent he would have bristled at being held like a child by his older sister, but at this very moment he couldn’t care less. Eventually, he attempted to move away slowly, and Mari picked up on the shift as she let her arm go. 

“Come on, let’s get you up.”

He allowed her to help him on his feet, propping him up against the sink and a second later he had his tooth brush coated in a bit of toothpaste in his hand. He went through the motion on auto-pilot, brushing his teeth until the disgusting taste was gone and he could rinse his mouth off. 

He exhaled shakily, his weight leaning on his hands, both propped up around the sink. He couldn’t look up, and his eyes stayed glued to the flowing water. Without thinking, he cupped his hands under the steady stream and splashed his face, barely shivering when his face was hit with the cold. If anything, it felt relieving. He washed the cold sweat and tears away, rubbing his eyes and cheeks rather forcefully, trying to get rid of the remnants of the dream. 

The vividness of the image was hard to shake off and he felt like he couldn’t stop rubbing until it was gone. Eventually Mari caught his wrist firmly, and he immediately stopped the movement, clenching his teeth at the itch under his kin begging to be released. He dropped his hands, sighing in defeat. 

Mari didn’t say a word. She handed him a small towel, taking it back once Yuuri had dried his face. She led him back to his room, and pushed him, not unkindly, to sit on the bed. A second later, she’d thrown a clean shirt at his face, and really how did all the women of this house know where his clothes were? 

His hand grabbed it on instinct, but he didn’t move. He knew what came next the changing part. It was the sleeping part, and after the last one, it seemed his body was in flight mode, entirely unwilling to go through the fear again. Because he didn’t doubt that the dreams would make an apparition again. It seemed he had been lucky the previous morning. The sheer exhaustion had been enough to drive them all away, and what he had taken for a tough awakening, with all his memories assaulting him, it was more than ten times better recollecting painful memories once awake than having them distorted and so much more terrifying paralyzing you in your sleep. 

“Yuuchan come on, change.” 

He looked up at his sister listlessly. She was standing with her hip against his desk, watching him with a sad look. He thinned his lips, dropping his gaze. He heard her sigh but he ignored it. If only bypassing sleep until the nightmares were no longer an issue… But even in his state he wasn’t delusional enough to entertain the thought long. Even if he hadn’t had a concussion, it would have been entirely unthinkable. 

“You need the rest,” Mari said bluntly, as if he didn’t know. 

He resisted the urge to glare up at her. He didn’t have the energy for it and besides even to him, it appeared a bit ungrateful after she’d taken care of him as she had. He sighed, grabbing the hem of his sweat-soaked shirt and passed it above his head, wincing at the soreness of his side and back. He threw it to the floor haphazardly and went on to put on the clean one. He saw Mari gave an approving nod from the corner of his eyes and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the over-protective sister mode. Not that he could blame her after everything. If anything he was grateful for it, even if he ordinarily hated the thought of being babied. It seemed it didn’t apply these days if the sheer amount of tears and hugs he’d needed were any indication. 

He spared a sideway look to his pillow like it was ready to bite him, and he couldn’t help but clench his teeth at the irrational image. 

“Do you need me to stay with you ‘till you fall asleep?”

He looked up startled at the question. She looked genuine too. He felt himself smile and he shook his head slowly. She nodded in understanding, and gestured for him to go back under the covers. They weren’t soaked like his shirt had been and he wondered how the hell he’d managed _that_. He let out a shaky breath once his head was settled on his pillow, dreading the sleep that was sure to come despite everything. The pain at the back of his head seemed to be pounding more harshly, as if pressuring him to close his eyes and let sleep claim him. 

His eyes moved to settle on Mari as she sat down on her knees, her face levelled with his. She looked at him dead in his eyes, hammering that he had to listen.  
“He’s safe. He’s with his mother and brother and he’s safe. You’re safe and the piece of shit will never hurt you ever again.”

She continued to stare at him for a few seconds, before nodding to herself. She got up, gave him a gentle tap on his shoulder and just like that she was out of the room. Yuuri felt himself smile at the retreating form of his sister. He shifted to make himself more comfortable, the perspective of sleep not sucking as much. He closed his eyes, repeating in his head her words over and over, until he was finally lulled to sleep. 

***

The next time he woke up was much gentler. All he really registered was a hand passing through his hair a few times, brushing the strands back and off his forehead, before a soft kiss was pressed on top of his head. He had felt his lips twitch up, a content noise escaping his lips at the feeling, before it all stopped as suddenly as it started. He was again deeply asleep before the door closed behind whoever had come into the room. 

***  
Sunlight was pooling into the room, and Yuuri’s eyelids fluttered when the warmth settled on his face. He blearily opened his eyes, feeling disoriented and out of his depth. The dread curling in his stomach was violently clashing with the quiet and the warmth of the room and he couldn’t really make sense of it. 

His eyes adjusted to the light, and although his vision remained blurry without his glasses, he could still make out the blurry outlines and colors of his room furniture. He caught sight of the discarded shirt, and it was all it took for his brain to catch up and finally enlighten him on exactly why he was feeling so rough. 

_Nightmares_

He couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about his break-down the night before, not when the nature of the dream came back to him in one big tidal wave, his mind reeling. He swallowed, feeling dejected. Rationally he believed in his sister’s words. But emotionally, it was a whole different story. And not that it was particularly surprising, and perhaps he should have expected it considering what Viktor himself had told him of his own panic attacks, but there he was. 

He forced himself to breathe in and out slowly, never mind how it came in and out shakily. Eventually he looked in the direction of the bedside table, his arm reaching out and groping for his phone. He unlocked it, removed the airplane mode and in the short seconds it took the device to come to life, he reached out again to grab his glasses. 

**9:36am**

His eyebrows shot up to this hairline, definitely shocked that it was so early. After last night’s fiasco he would have expected himself to stay in Morpheus’ arms much longer than that. 

Refocusing, a quick browse of the screen told him he’d receive several replies for the messages he’d sent his friends. He sighed, dropping the hand holding the phone back down to the mattress, suddenly not feeling like he wanted to go through them all at the moment.

Instead he only stayed quietly lying on his side, with his phone uselessly held in his hand. 

A knock on his door made him look over. “Come in,” he tried, and winced at how raspy his voice sounded. 

“You look better,” Mari said as she came in, and for the life of him, Yuuri had no idea whether she was being sarcastic or not. He watched her cross the room, grabbing his desk chair and dropping herself in it once she’d pulled it close enough to his bed. Her face was subtly pinched with worry and he averted his eyes despondently. 

“Brought you this.” He gave her a side glance, and she was holding fish-shaped cake and he couldn’t help but widen his eyes as he propped himself up on instinct. 

“How did you-“

“Grandpa’s making them,” she said with a smirk and Yuuri scoffed, amused. She probably felt proud of herself for making him react. He settled himself back against the back of his bed, and couldn’t help the smile that took over his lips as she handed him the taiyaki. 

“I haven’t eaten one in forever,” he commented, nearly moaning when he got a bite of the soft dough, the red-bean paste filling melting in his mouth. “God that’s good.”

Mari raised an eyebrow at him, letting out a short laugh at his antics. “Glad that helped,” she said after a few seconds. Yuuri shot her a grateful smile, vaguely surprised at how easily it came. 

“You knew it would, that’s like, my favorite since I was old enough to have an opinion on cakes,” he retorted, still munching down a bite. She shook her head, a smile on her lips but Yuuri paused upon noticing it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He cocked his head to the side, eyeing her questioningly. She let out an exasperated breath at him. He couldn’t help but smile minutely at that.

“You were always too damn perceptive for your own good too,” she mumbled under her breath, loud enough for him to pick up. He didn’t comment though, letting her get on with it. 

She gave him a long, searching look and he had to school himself not to shift. 

“You really scared the shit out of me last night,” she confessed. He pause mid-chew, watching her with wide eyes. He remembered exactly what happened last night, and then as well as now, her voice had been the definition of firm and calm. But apparently, that wasn’t at all how she’d experienced any of it. He frowned, looking down for a second as he tried to wrap his mind around it. 

“I’m not a stranger to your attacks Yuuri. But damn,” she breathed out, looking skywards for a second. “You were terrified.” 

He scowled down at the half-eaten taiyaki. “I came back later because I heard you whimper, and Dad came back a few times to check up on you too.” 

He grimaced at the thought that he had kept them all awake with his bullshit. She caught the expression and she scowled immediately. “Don’t even think about it,” she hissed sharply. 

Defense mechanism kicked in and the words were out of his mouth before he could think of leaving the bite out of it. “Think about that?”

She deadpanned, her lips pursed. “You and I both know what. You’re berating yourself again, so stop before I knock it out of you.” 

He fought the urge to raise a defiant eyebrow because she would definitely be capable of _that_. 

“I don’t think you realize how early you fell asleep yesterday after grandma tucked you in. It was like, I don’t know 5:40pm or something,” she informed him, nodding emphatically at his “what?” expression. “It was around 9pm when I found you in the bathroom. So not late,” she added, hammering the words with that no-non-sense expression of hers. 

He huffed, looking away, and taking a big bite of the taiyaki for good measure. 

“I was talking with grandpa this morning,” she continued, ignoring his childish display. “He thinks you should talk about it.”

Yuuri froze, his heart starting to pound heavily in his chest. The mere thought of having to recount again what had happened made his fingers cold and his belly swoop. He forced the feeling down, resuming his chewing forcefully. 

“I already talked about it. I told mom,” he retorted, faux-casually. Obviously, his sister saw right through him, but instead of arguing against that, she hummed.  
“Yes I know, she told me. But that’s not enough. I know you know it’s not just gonna ‘go away’, and I think talking about it with someone could help.”

He scowled deeply. “I’m fine.” 

“You are most definitely not,” she retorted, quick as a flash. “Yuuri, going back to see a psychologist doesn’t mean you’re regressing in what the two of you had accomplished before. There’s nothing _wrong_ with-”

He scoffed. 

“You’re telling _me_ that? Mari, the very meaning of going to see a specialist is that there _is_ something wrong with you. You don’t go see a surgeon if you don’t need surgery.”

He heard her sigh and he bit down his lip. He knew he was being snappish for no reason when she was just trying to help, had been helping. 

“You need to deal with what happened.”

And just like that his attempt at trying to stay calm flew out the window. His head snapped towards her, eyes blazing. 

“I _will_ deal with it! I _am_ dealing with it,” he growled. “You said it. It’s not just gonna ‘go away’, don’t you think I know that? I don’t _need_ anyone holding my hand while I fucking deal with it. It’s been less than two days for fuck’s sake, what were you expecting?”

She was entirely unfazed. “What are you afraid of?”

His eyes popped out of his head as he nearly screamed, incensed. 

“I’m not afraid of anything! Damn it Mari, why do you have to insist with this?”

“I barely had to, you got on your high horse all by yourself at the mere suggestion.”

That blew the wind out of his sail, and he stared at her, mouth agape and unable to utter a word. He huffed, looking away once more.

“We’re not gonna force you to do anything Yuu,” she said softly and his eye twitched. “But it did you a world of good when you were little, and you have to deal with something pretty traumatic now. We _know_ you can handle yourself, you’ve proved it enough times. But you don’t _have_ to do it alone.”

His heart missed a beat at that, but he kept his eyes firmly away. He wasn’t sure what had made him so angry so suddenly, but he still felt it itch under his skin. 

“Here drink that,” she told him eventually, and he felt what he guessed was a water bottle being balanced against his thigh. “All of it, you need to stay hydrated or the concussion won’t heal.” 

He nearly lost his battle against the urge to roll his eyes at the mothering, but he kept himself in check, looking unseeingly straight ahead and if the taiyaki was getting squeezed slightly too hard, well it was his business. 

“And finish the taiyaki, baka, you’re putting the anko paste all over the place.” His eyes snapped to his hand, worryingly checking if he had in fact smudged the sweet filling on his bed sheets. He looked up to glare at his sister when he realized she’d played him - _again_ \- but she was already out the door. 

His entire body sagged against the headboard, and he looked skywards, anger gone and guilt suddenly churning his guts, the rapidity of the switch nearly making his head swim. 

_What the hell_

He stayed immobile for a while, incapable of not dwelling on the shitshow he’d just created and the ensuing wave of guilt. His appetite, if he had had any prior to his sister’s arrival, had official packed its bags, but as he looked for endless seconds down at the now pathetic-looking dough fish, he just shrugged and popped it in his mouth. He didn’t want to get out of bed to go and throw it out anyway. 

He gulped down several large swallow of the water bottle Mari had brought him, berating himself over and over for his reaction. Physically, he felt instantly better after he practically inhaled the water, as if it’d washed over his brain, taking the pain with it. He sighed again, feeling defeated and more than a little lost. 

He jumped when his phone vibrated, tugging his attention away from his self-depreciation. 

**9:56**  
**Viktor**  
**I just woke up. Can I call?**

He let out a sharp exhale, inexplicably feeling tears spring behind his eyes. He swallowed as he grabbed his phone, and unlocked it. His fingers hovered over the keypad for a few seconds once the chat opened, unsure what to do. 

He wanted to speak to Viktor. He _needed_ to hear his voice, _craved_ it even. It was like a tug deep in his heart, bordering on painful. Nearly overcrowding that, was the disastrous emotional Molotov cocktail that he could feel bubble underneath his skin since he woke up. It was like poison in his veins, threatening to make him lose control of his own emotions like he had with Mari. He still wasn’t sure why in the world he had snapped at her in such a way. It had just…come out. He didn’t want to snap at Viktor… He was probably feeling awful already, and Yuuri didn’t want to be the one adding onto that, especially after seeing how insecure he seemed to be over the two of them. He bit his lip nearly to the blood and let out a shaky breath, trying to steel himself as best as he could, promising himself he wouldn’t start reacting badly for no reason. 

He quickly typed “go ahead”, deeming a simple “yes” to be too despondent and hit send before he had time to second guess himself. 

Barely a second later, the phone vibrated again, a yet faceless caller id labelled as **Viktor** lighting the screen up. He exhaled sharply and pressed answer.  
“Yuuri?” came the rushed question in guise of a welcome and Yuuri felt something ease in his chest. 

“Hey,” he answered in a voice that sounded small, even to his own ears. There was silence for barely a beat. 

“Oh Yuuri,” Viktor said softly and for a second Yuuri’s heart seized in fear at the thought that Viktor might ask how he was feeling. “I’m really glad to hear your voice,” he murmured instead, and Yuuri sagged in relief. 

“Me too,” he replied instantly, only now realizing how true that was, the thought hitting him like a tidal wave that made his eyes sting. The nightmares’ memory raised its ugly head again, and he nearly choked at the vivid images that sprung to life. Hearing Viktor _speak_ , proving beyond a doubt, that he was _fine_ made him want to dissolve into tears at the strength of the relief that swept over him. “I really needed to hear your voice too.”

He only realized his voice was thick with tears after he’d said the words, and clearly, Viktor had noticed if the seconds of silence were anything to go by. 

“Yuu-, oh no don’t cry.” Yuuri was nearly 99% sure it was supposed to be a reassurance, but the frantic edge to the plea betrayed him. For some reason, _that_ made Yuuri let out a wet laugh. “Did I make you cry? I’m so sorry! Or maybe you’re just tired? Oh I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I used to hate it when my mom kept assuming I was tired when I cried as a child. Oh god I’m rambling! Are you still crying?”

Yuuri let out a choked laugh, sniffling as he rubbed his eyes free of the tears. _How does he do that?_ Barely a few words, a nonsensical rambling and it was like someone had wrapped Yuuri into a warm blanket. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” he placated, a smile in his voice. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to turn all weepy on you, I just…” he paused, feeling his heart squeeze. 

“You just?” Viktor prompted after a while, when it became clear Yuuri wouldn’t continue without it. He let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes. 

“I just had a very vivid nightmare last night, and I don’t think I’m over it yet,” he admitted, hating the irrational shame that washed over him. 

“Oh Yuuri,” Viktor said again softly, and Yuuri couldn’t help but smile despite his frown at trying to keep the lump in his throat from making him cry again. “It’s completely normal, you can’t get over it so quickly, we’re not machines.”

Yuuri let out a small gasp at that. _We’re not machines_

“I have them too you know?” Viktor kept on, seemingly oblivious to Yuuri’s reaction. “That’s what made me wake up in panic over and over again yesterday… Felt like death warmed over each time I woke up. I puked a few times too.” 

Hearing that someone had puked several times and had been feeling like shit was definitely not meant to make anyone feel better, but there Yuuri was.

“Yeah… sounds familiar,” he croaked out, hating the lump in his throat radiating pain as he refused to let any more tears out. 

Viktor hummed sadly. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently, like he was scared to jostle Yuuri. 

And why did Yuuri feel nothing but warmth now that it was Viktor asking that? He swallowed with difficulty. The mere thought of recalling the nightmare on purpose made his stomach churn with nausea. 

“Hum, I’m not sure,” he managed. 

Viktor hummed knowingly this time. “Yeah, I know the feeling. I dissolved into tears when mom asked me that question yesterday.”

Yuuri let out a wet chuckle at the way he said it, but it was short lived. 

“I feel like someone’s punching me in the stomach just thinking about it,” he admitted quietly.

Viktor didn’t say anything right away, but for some reason Yuuri knew he had all his attention. 

“You know,” he ventured eventually. “For what it’s worth, I felt much better after I told her.”

Yuuri winced, eyes fluttering shut. He knew that technically, which only made the thought of his earlier outburst burn him in shame. But what his brain had rationally understood, his emotions were entirely oblivious to, or more accurately rebelled against the very notion if the nausea was anything to go by.

“I could tell you mine if you want,” came Viktor’s soft suggestion not ten seconds later. It sounded tentative, as if he wasn’t sure whether it would be welcome or not. But Yuuri latched onto it, nodding rapidly until he realized Viktor couldn’t see him. Dealing with someone else’s issues had always been far easier than facing his own.

“Hum yes, that would be…nice, if you don’t mind,” he stuttered, grimacing at ‘nice’. That definitely wouldn’t be nice for Viktor, _What the hell Yuuri_? He relaxed when he could hear the smile in Viktor’s voice as he replied. 

“Alright then. I’ve had several, but a lot of them escape me when I wake up. I just know I’ve had them because I usually feel exhausted, no matter how much time I’ve slept – which isn’t too much at a time because they keep waking me up, but not the point – and I usually feel sick to my stomach.”

Yuuri exhaled, relaxing minutely at each word Viktor pronounced. Both because the tension in his belly still reeling from the nightmare was slowly uncoiling the more he could hear Viktor’s voice, and because what he was told resonated with him enough that he suddenly didn’t feel so _alone_. He had to suppress the guilt at that thought. He had been so well surrounded by his family and friends, each ensuring he was alright and trying to comfort him and here he was feeling like he was being an ungrateful brat for feeling alone despite it all. 

“Anyway; the gist of it is,” Yuuri heard Viktor take in a breath then, “ recalling what happened in vivid details… That’s the most frequent, and thank whoever’s up there for it, cause that’s not the worst it could be…” 

Yuuri felt a pang in his chest at that. It seemed already pretty horrific to him. 

“One that really frazzled me was seeing my mother leaving again,” he continued, his voice incredibly small and thick and Yuuri frowned sadly, biting his lip. “It’s not like I’m back at being 12 and reliving the events as they happen, that would be fine, I’m used to those. No, the worst part is, she comes back to me like she did Saturday, but then she leaves again.” He had to pause there, and Yuuri heard him swallowing. “She’s usually spitting the same things my dad used to say when I was younger, after she left the first time. It took her thirty minutes to calm me down after that one.”

Yuuri couldn’t speak. He didn’t want to even try and imagine what that must have felt like. Viktor was obviously on the verge of tears, and he hated the sound. He had to close his eyes when memories of Viktor crying in the past week came back to him, his face always held an anguish Yuuri wanted to wipe out as fast as he could.  
Viktor exhaled sharply on the other side of the phone. 

“She’s always staying close when I sleep now,” he continued and it was obvious to Yuuri he was trying to put on a brave face, his voice clearly holding a forced cheer he didn’t feel. “She tried staying only until I fell asleep once. Didn’t go over well, so now she just sleeps next to me. We’re still at the hotel anyway, and there’s two king size beds so we all just ended up sleeping in the same one…”

Yuuri smiled at that. He was glad Viktor didn’t have to be alone either to deal with the fallout. 

“Anyway, that one really wasn’t fun.” There was a short pregnant pause then, as if Viktor was hesitating whether to voice his next thought or not. “I also dreamt about you.”

The words were so quiet, it took Yuuri a few seconds to process them. When he did he froze, unsure what to make of them. He couldn’t speak, and even if he could, he wouldn’t have, not knowing what to say and not daring to interrupt. 

“About when my dad threatened you,” he said as if he was asking a question and Yuuri had to swallow because how in the hell could he forget that? “Except in the dream, he didn’t lower the gun.” He could hear Viktor crying then and it made Yuuri want to cry too. Goddamit, what a pair they made, huh? “I was begging him again and again, but he wouldn’t relent. I woke up when he fired.”

Yuuri only breathed. Slowly, shakily, he controlled his breathing while a lone tear escaped and rolled down his cheeks. The lump in his throat had loosened for some unfathomable reason and all he felt was numbness. 

“I dreamt Anatoly shot you,” he said flatly, barely recognizing his voice. The words were out before he could think them. “You were bleeding out and I couldn’t save you.” He didn’t pause to think how hearing those words could affect Viktor. He couldn’t. The daze broke, and all suddenly, it was too much. A sob left his lips and that was it. “I couldn’t do anything but watch, Viktor. You were gone and all I could do was watch,” he cried, breathless. “Oh god, I’m so sorry… I’m s- so so sorry.”

Tears were dampening the comforter, stinging his eyes, and his sobs racked his chest and burned his throat. He could hear Viktor cry on the other side of the phone, and it both wrecked and warmed him. At least they were in that shitshow together, and it was better than the alternative considering the nature of their dreams. 

“Why are you sorry?” Viktor finally managed after several seconds of uninterrupted crying.

“What?” Yuuri gasped, incoherently. It was barely intelligible but Viktor answered so he figured it couldn’t be that bad.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Yuuri gaped for a second, uncomprehending. “I couldn’t save you!” he sputtered, crazed. 

“But Yuuri,” came the breathless reply. “You did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our boys can't catch a break, can they...? They need to be sushi rolled in blankets... 
> 
> Btw, [Taiyakis](https://thisis-japan.com/taiyaki/) are traditional Japanese treats that are absolutely amazing - pretty filling and heartwarming too, which is why I included it! Anko is the red-bean paste inside - it's sweet and its not liked by everyone cause it does have a particular taste, but taiyakis can also be filled with a lot of other stuff! :) 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and stay tuned for the next one!


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance regarding the credibility of my depiction of the investigation' consequences (legally speaking) - I tried to do some research, but I'm pretty sure it's still not entirely realistic. Oh well. 
> 
> One more chapter and it'll be doooone! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Yuuri was curled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket around his shoulders and another covering his legs. It wasn’t particularly cold but the warmth and the weight of the blankets did wonders to soothe his particularly volatile emotions. He was nursing the cup of tea his mother had handed him after adjusting the blankets. He had yet to take a single sip but the simple warmth seeping through his hands was enough for now. 

It had taken a while for both Viktor and he to calm down. His first instinct at hearing Viktor’s words – besides an uncontrolled sputtering fit – was to vehemently deny it. 

_“He hurt you because of me!” he exclaimed, incensed. “He would never have threatened you had I not been there in the first place.”_.

_Viktor stayed silent for a second, and Yuuri could practically hear the disappointment in the way he breathed, as if Yuuri was being particularly dim. It made perfect sense to_ him. _No Yuuri, no threats, end of story._

_“Maybe not,” he granted, reluctance quite obvious in his voice and Yuuri had to repress an absurd triumphant smile. It would have been wiped off his face at the next words anyway. Good to save him the trouble. “But honestly, I was passed the status quo by then. I heard what you and your dad talked about, most of it anyway. It wasn’t something I could just ignore by burying my head in the sand any longer. Something had to give, and I would have confronted my father myself at some point. There’s no telling what would have happened then. Maybe nothing at all, sure… But maybe worse. Honestly, after seeing how manically enraged he became, I’m not sure about anything anymore.”_

_And that made an infuriating amount of sense. “I hate that you ended up in danger,” he continued much more tentatively, and Yuuri felt himself furrow his brows, unsure what to expect of the next words. “But… to be honest? I’m really glad I wasn’t alone… And that, you were with me…”_

_Yuuri sagged on himself, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding._

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, looking into his teacup, before forcing himself to look in his sister’s eyes. She levelled an expectant gaze at him, which he accurately interpreted by ‘for what, be more specific dummy’. “For losing my shit earlier-“

“Language.”

He rolled his eyes at his mother’s back, as she was helping herself with her own cup. “I saw that,” came the cheery reply. 

“Of course you did,” he mumbled, glaring at Mari’s snort. He took a breath. “I’m sorry for losing my _cool_ earlier, and just yelling at you for no reason.”

“Oh no I get it, there was a reason. But you didn’t have to yell because of it,” she retorted, eerily calmly as she sipped her coffee. He could only stare at her, feeling ill-footed at her answer. 

She sighed, rolling her eyes. 

“I know what seeing a psychologist represents for you Yuuri,” she explained. “And I also know that in other circumstances, you never would have fought me on this the way you did. But for better or worse, – more like, the latter, he mumbled and she ignored him – these aren’t normal circumstances. You’ve just lived through something pretty traumatic and by all accounts you ain’t doing too bad. I’m serious Yuu,” she added emphatically at his raised eyebrow, a hint an exasperatedly fond smile on her lips. 

“It’s gonna be tough for a while, and I don’t doubt that you’ll get to a point where you can manage it, but there’s no shame in accepting help to get there.”

He grunted unintelligibly, bringing the cup to his lips. 

“What’s that?”

“I said _I know_ ,” he mumbled.

“Sure you did,” she snorted. “Oh and there’s also the fact that I know how concussions can make people moodier than pregnant women,” she added with a smirk.

“Right,” he said flatly, looking at their mother as she joined them around the coffee table. 

“Did you drink water this morning Yuuchan?” she asked as soon as she was seated, not waiting for the beverage to cool down. 

“What- hum yes I did, Mari brought me a water bottle.”

“Good, you need to stay hydrated with actual water. Both because of your concussion and because I am not looking forward to Obachan pestering us all if you don’t,” she said in such a matter-of-fact way that it lit up an amused smile on Yuuri’s face. 

“Have you spoken to Viktor?” 

The smile widened against his will, and he tried to cover his reaction by stretching his neck before answering but if the shit-eating grin on Mari’s face was anything to go by, he’d failed miserably. 

“Yes. Yes I did,” he answered, pointedly gazing at his mother, who nodded pleasantly. 

_“Ok you know what, let’s not talk about that anymore,” Viktor exclaimed, the childish exuberance Yuuri hadn’t thought he’d missed coming forth. His voice was a bit raspy and it was painfully obvious that neither of them were as carefree as he tried to make it sound, but it was more than enough to spark something else than fear and guilt in Yuuri. So, and in total opposition to his bone-deep urge to protest further, he relented._

_“Alright, what do you want to talk about?”_

_He heard Viktor hum thoughtfully from the other side, and he could just picture him with his forefinger in front of his lips._

_“Oh I know! What about your trip to Philly? You went for an interview last week or something?”_

_“Wait, how do you know that?” Yuuri blurted out, shaking his head in surprise._

_“Hum, I think Chris mentioned it?” he said far too sheepishly to sound honest and Yuuri hummed knowingly. “Doesn’t matter, how was it?”_

_Yuuri let out a breathy chuckle._

_“Good, great actually. I really like the city. It couldn’t be more different from Hasetsu obviously, but I kinda want that change, if that makes sense? I spent my entire life living here, and barely left California at all ever, so living on the east coast and so close to New York will be a nice change of pace.”_

_“That’s for sure! And besides, the University of Pennsylvania has one of the best program for criminal justice, right? It’s a nice package deal!”_

_Yuuri frowned, a smile playing on his lips._

_“How do you know that’s what I want to study?”_

_The loaded silence that answered him made him smile wider. “Hum, good guess?”_

_Yuuri had to refrain from chuckling. “Guess, huh?”_

_He heard Viktor coughed and how was he still so unsubtle?_

_“You know I heard you cough right?” Yuuri teased and he only had to wait a second before Viktor relented, never one for patience._

_“Alright fine, I may have asked Phichit.”_

_Yuuri felt a pleased smile curl his lips up and he could only savor it. That feeling of warmth that came with knowing Viktor had deliberately gone out of his way to get to know more about him. It seemed so inconsequential after all that had happened, and yet it was everything._

_“What about you anyway? What university have you been applying to? I’m not sure which college’s the best in vet sciences,” he mused out loud, opting to give an out to Viktor, and he jumped right into it._

_“I mean there’re a few! California-Davis’ the best, so I applied there, then there’s Cornell, Colorado State and North Carolina State University too of course,” he started rambling on and Yuuri just couldn’t stop smiling. “Oh and University of Pennsylvania is really good too!”_

_Yuuri let out a laugh, his mind already going miles an hour. “It is, huh?”_

_“Yes! And as you know, the campus is awesome! Not sure when we’ll get the answers though. I kinda just submitted all my applications and then forgot about it.”_

_Yuuri bust out laughing because this was such a Viktor thing to do._

_“Did you receive anything yet?” Viktor continued, unperturbed although his voice betrayed a smile._

_“Not yet, shouldn’t be too long now though I think,” Yuuri eventually managed to reply, mirth in his tone._

_Viktor hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah supposed not. Oh well we’ll see! I think I’ll- oh wait.”_

_He heard rummaging on the other side of the phone, voices exchanging words Yuuri couldn’t make out. After a few seconds, it seemed Viktor got the phone back to his ear._

_“Yeah sorry, my mom making me drink water every ten minutes and a half,” he explained and Yuuri chuckled._

_“Yup, know the feeling, my grandmother gave me a death glare when she saw me drinking tea. Said it would dehydrate me, but I’m not entirely sure of the validity of that statement considering I only had one cup.”_

_“Heh, what can you do, better drink the water than protest; same result only faster,” Viktor added, matter-of-factly._

“And how is he?” his mother asked above her tea cup. 

“I think, better? I mean, he says he has nightmares, but he doesn’t wake up to full-blown panic anymore,” he explained, trying to sound uncaring and very purposefully not looking in Mari’s direction. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the need to keep up his walls, especially when he knew that both his sister and mother could see read him like an open book. He swallowed, trying to not focus on that. 

"Apparently, Elena told him and Yuri that she'd written them letters. Viktor thinks his father probably destroyed them before they could find them," he added a little bitterly. He couldn't see another explanation himself, and he couldn't be surprised that such a man could do that, but it still upset him to think of all the pain that could have been avoided if Viktor - and Yuri - had found these letters before their father. 

His mother hummed in understanding, a hint of sadness in the noise. 

“Speaking of Elena, I was talking to her earlier,” she eventually said, making Yuuri look at her expectantly once more. “And we felt it might be a good thing for you to rest again tomorrow.” 

The words were barely out of her mouth that Yuuri was already frowning, a dozen protests on the tip of his tongue. 

“Listen before you get your panties in a bunch," Mari shot, and he glared at her. 

“You clearly still need the sleep, and any midterms that you missed, the school has agreed to let you retake them,” his mother went on explaining calmly, as if there hadn’t been any interruption. “This wasn’t a small thing, Yuu-chan, and taking one more day off seems like more than a reasonable trade-off. A concussion doesn’t just disappear and the more you take the time to rest, the fastest it’ll heal.”

He sighed. There was no valid argument he could have come up with against that logic. She seemed to know that because she was observing his reaction with a knowing smile and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, a smile betraying him. 

“Fine,” he relented. 

“Viktor’s staying in too anyway,” she added, mischievously and Yuuri found himself yet retreating in the skin of a five year old as he pouted at his mother. 

***

The rest of the day went on uneventfully, with Yuuri alternating between the living room and his bedroom, falling asleep more than once and waking up in a cold sweat just as much as he did peacefully. 

Phichit came by when school let out, distracting Yuuri from the last nightmares that plagued his nap. He didn’t pipe a word of it, gladly jumping onto the occasion that his friend provided to stop thinking about it. 

Unsurprisingly, the entire school seemed to know what had transpired at the Dvornikov’s mansion, obviously shared with all sorts of dramatic flair and heroic flourish that such tale demanded. How, it was anyone’s guess, but according to Phichit, it was all anyone could talk about. 

“There’re rumors about you and Viktor too obviously,” Phichit had said, clearly far too happy about it for Yuuri’s liking, but his deadpan had been deftly ignored. “I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces when you both come back to school. Especially since knowing Viktor, he’ll stick to you like glue.” 

And yeah, Yuuri was more than ok with that, although he refrained from saying it out loud or he just knew that he’d never hear the end of it. 

“Oh and I heard something about Anya too,” he’d added more seriously. “I’m not sure whether it’s true or not, but I head she’s moving across the country to live with some relatives. Georgi was bawling his eyes out about it.” 

Yuuri had been a little stunned, although perhaps he shouldn’t have. With Anya’s mother in a coma, and her dad likely with a life sentence, if that, she would have to go live with someone else. Knowing that she was likely going to move out of town before either Yuuri or Viktor could confront her on all her machinations to hurt Viktor kinda felt like the rug was being pulled from under him. 

He couldn’t deny he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to see her again, though. Phichit had left before dinner, promising to text him to distract him the next day. 

Now, Yuuri found himself in the living room again, waiting for dinner to be ready, and simply basking in the rich smells wafting from the kitchen and his mother’s melodic humming. He was curled up on the couch, the TV playing some inane show in the background that he wasn’t really paying any attention to, and his mother’s suggestion – more like order, but it sounded better framed as a suggestion than the alternative – about staying home the next day didn’t sound so abhorrent anymore. His protests had been more of a knee-jerk reaction anyway, born out of his desire to go back to normal. 

The last week had just been exhausting on so many levels, and he was ready for uneventfulness to take over for at least the end of the year. Phichit had retorted that he’d never settle for uneventful but Yuuri thought that just this once, maybe he would. It had simply felt like going back to school would be the most normal thing he could do. 

He wasn’t entirely sure of the soundness of that argument after hearing an account of the gossip circus going on at school though. 

“Dad says he’ll be home for dinner,” Mari announced as she joined them in the large living area. “I think things are starting to settle down.”

He simply hummed thoughtfully. Yuuri wanted to know a little bit about how things would be proceeding, namely what would happen to Anatoly now that his entire operations have been unveiled, but he meant what he had said before. He didn’t want to know anything more than strictly necessary. He’d have enough and all he really needed was closure. 

“When are you going back to Uni?” he asked Mari once she was sitting crossed legged on the loveseat. 

“Hum, probably Wednesday. Most of my classes are recorded and they don’t take attendance so I could have missed the entire week if I wanted but there’s a seminar on Thursday that I really want to attend.”

He nodded, and let out a breath before continuing. “Thank you, Mari-neechan,” he told her, catching her eyes and hopefully conveying just how much he meant it. “For coming all the way here, and you know, just being here and helping me.”

She raised an eyebrow, but her eyes were soft and her smile gentle. “You don’t have to thank me, you know.”

“I want to,” he countered earnestly. She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re my little brother. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you.” 

His throat grew tight at that, but he smiled, nodding thankfully. 

***

When their father finally came home, Yuuri perked up from the loveseat, childlike happiness making him smile. He hadn’t seen him since Saturday, and somehow and despite the fact that they’d spent much longer apart in the past on some occasions, it had felt like forever. He could see the exhaustion seeping through his father’s form as he left his keys on the small table by the door, but he didn’t look troubled. Considering everything, Yuuri took it as an excellent sign. 

“Hi Yuuchan,” he greeted, smile on his face as he approached Yuuri, embracing him tightly. 

He accepted the hug, starting to get accustomed to the outpour of the physical displays of affection he’d been on the receiving end of since he left that blasted house.

In fact, he had gotten used to it frighteningly faster than he would have guessed, and he wondered if it would settle back to their normal levels eventually, not pausing to consider whether that was what he wanted or not. 

Dinner was…surreal. For lack of a better word. How else could he define the sense of normalcy and yet complete aberrance of it all? 

Yuuri couldn’t even remember the last time they’d all been eating a meal all together at the same table, his grandparents, his parents, his sister and him. With the inn constantly busy enough to keep at least one of them on deck, the sometimes crazy hours of his father, and Mari at college, this kind of scene had become quite the rarity. What was more, they were all here, not yet 72h after someone tried to _kill_ him, sitting around the table with his mother’s katsudon which he hadn’t eaten since what felt like an eternity, laughing hysterically at the inane jokes of his father and the cutting sarcastic banter between his grandparents that never failed to make them all crack up. 

He couldn’t help but pause for a second, taking in the sight of his entire family relaxed around the table, and somehow it was enough to abate the constant wariness that seemed to have settled around him like a mantle since that night. It was…invigorating, that feeling of finding oneself surrounded rather than alone. He’d never been feeling _alone_ per se, but it was only now, after the emotional turmoil of the last few days that the realization dawned on him. How easy it was to forget how good it felt to pause for a moment and simply…be. 

“You’re alright Yuuri?”

He jumped a little, smiling when he caught the flash of concern on his father’s face. 

“Yes perfectly fine,” he said, quickly waving his father off. 

He looked like he wasn’t sure whether to believe him, and Yuuri’s smile widened, giving him a pointed look. His father gave him a tell-tale eyebrow raise, the one that meant “right, if you say so”, before he went back to try and catch the last remaining rice grains in his bowl. 

The evening rolled out uneventfully, and Yuuri found himself starting to nod off again, quite to his displeasure. He saw Mari smirking at him and he didn’t even have the energy to do anything more than pout. She snorted, and he deflated, not even annoyed. 

“Yuuri,” his father called out again as he was getting up to help out with cleaning up the table, and Yuuri jumped when his grandmother swatted his hand away from the chopsticks. 

“Oh no, you’re exempted from that, go with your father.”

He could only nod, remembering belatedly that maybe saying ‘thank you’ would have been appreciated and followed behind his father who had a suspicious smirk on his face. Gosh, was it a new pastime to make fun of him these days?

“We rarely see you quite so mellow Yuu,” his father chuckled and it was only then Yuuri realized he’d said that out loud.

“Perfect,” he mumbled as they entered his room and went to sit on his bed at his father’s gesture. 

He looked at him expectantly, unsure yet whether he should be dreading the talk or not. Apparently, his face had made the decision for him because his father smiled at him, shaking his head quickly. 

“Don’t worry, nothing bad,” he reassured him. “I’m not sure whether you want to hear anything else about this case or not, but maybe it’ll help with closure.”

Yuuri’s brows furrowed automatically for a second, confusion quickly clearing as he caught on to what his father meant. In all honesty, after discovering what Elena had been up to, every ounce of curiosity regarding the case had flew out the window. 

This investigation had taxed him more than he could have ever imagined and its ramifications reached deeper than anything he’d dealt with before. It had struck so close to home, and he still felt dizzy over it. But he knew he’d never be able to rest without knowing what would happen next.

So he attempted to steel himself, swallowed and nodded. His brave face wouldn’t fool his father, it never did, but his smile softened with a hint of sadness that Yuuri quickly waved by rolling his eyes, huffing, “Come on, I won’t break.”

Actually, he had absolutely no idea of the validity of that statement. Considering the amount of breaking down in the past 48h, every evidence actually pointed towards the alternative. He didn’t say it though. 

“Anatoly’s going away for a life sentence,” was what his dad opened with. 

Yuuri’s face went slack with surprise, deadpanning for a few seconds. 

“Wait- what? How the fuc- hell do you already know that?” he amended at his dad’s raised eyebrow. If he only knew the amount of swearing he actually did on a daily basis. Not the point, focus Yuuri. 

“The trial was rushed through as quickly as legally possible,” his father went on, clearly amused at Yuuri’s bafflement. “Turns out, we weren’t the only one on the case; Anatoly had been operating in different states, but he was careful never to deal personally with any of the non-California ones. Which is why we never caught on, until Elena came back with the missing link: the family business back in Russia. Long story short, none of us wanted to waste time, and with all the evidence piling up against him, he had zero chance of making it out of that court room without at least a life sentence. Which he’ll serve in the US. We were scared Russia might try to get him back, but it seems Elena’s suspicions were right, and he has much less support back home than he seemed to believe. There was no claim whatsoever for him and he’s being transferred to ADX Florence as we speak.”

Yuuri was slacked-jaw feeling like the world had tipped off his axis. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear all that before he did. It was like a knot was finally coming loose in his chest. 

No matter how many times he repeated in his head, how many times his sister had tried to drill it in his head the night before, the little voice in the back of his head buzzing with anxiety as it whisper yelled “are you really safe?” had been unrelenting. 

His dad’s words seemed to finally soothed it, lulling it to rest. For what seemed like interminable moments he was unable to answer, or do anything besides breathing a little shakily, before his body entirely deflated as the weight that had been holding him down finally lifted. 

“Oh thank god.” The words escaped him in a sigh, his face falling in his hands as his mind caught up with reality. 

He rubbed his face, hands coming to grip his hair for a second, before letting go and finally meeting his dad’s eyes, and he let out a breathy laugh that edged on crying. 

“I don’t know why-, I thought, I thought that maybe, maybe he’d managed to get out of it,” he admitted, not ashamed that he could barely go through the sentence without stuttering. 

His father smiled indulgently, and Yuuri could see the same anxiety reflected back on his dad’s face. After so many years of running after a ghost, his dad, better than anyone, better than Yuuri, knew the fear that came with the possibility that that monster might slip through their fingers yet again. 

“He didn’t,” his told him gently, hands cupping Yuuri’s knee and giving him a little squeeze. “He won’t. He’s going away, and there’s nothing he or anyone can do that’ll change that.” Yuuri nodded quickly, breathing still somewhat shaky with relief so intense it was heady. He paused. 

“Does Elena know?” he tentatively asked. _Does Viktor know?_

“Yes,” his dad answered before Yuuri had even finished asking, nodding along. “Yes she does, and I believe she’s doing the same thing with Viktor and Yuri that I’m doing with you now,” he added, and why was Yuuri blushing? 

“What about Dvornikov? Phichit told me something about Anya going to live with relatives, is that true?” 

“Yes, they came to get her quite quickly after her father was taken into custody. They’re her mother’s family, and they live in Chicago. I think it’ll do that girl a world of good to be away from her father’s bullshit, and being close to her mother’s sister should help her grieve too,” he mused quietly and Yuuri found himself wholeheartedly agreeing. 

He would never forget that she’d tried so viciously to hurt Viktor for something he wasn’t even responsible for. He could empathize with her circumstances, but never would he condone her actions. It wasn’t his place to forgive her or not, that was solely on Viktor, but he found that he was fine with it as long as he never had to see her again. 

“As for Dvornikov, he’s going away too. He was instrumental in bringing Anatoly down, but he was still the executive head of a large mafia network that extended from Russia all the way here, and his past actions are no more commendable than Anatoly’s. Unlike Anatoly, he’ll be allowed to receive visits from Anya and other relatives if they wish to see him.”

Yuuri’s brows knitted together. He felt a bit strange to consider that Viktor and Yuri would never see their father again. After what happened that night, Yuuri wasn’t sure what Viktor would even want to see the man’s face again, but…it was still his dad. And if it was Yuuri, maybe he would want to speak to him one last time, to get some closure. And what about Yuri? He’d been thrown into that mess without warning, caught up on all that had happened right before his world was turned on his axis once again when he was reunited with his mother. 

Yuuri knew from Viktor that Yuri had drastically changed after their mother had left. Hell, he’d seen it himself. He knew how antagonistic Yuri had become against their father once he’d recovered from the shock and grief of their mother’s departure. Yuri clearly wasn’t their dad’s biggest fan, but if only to give the man a piece of his mind, maybe the blonde would want to see him again. 

He must have been quite obvious on his internal questioning because his father didn’t waste time putting his worries to rest. 

“Anatoly will get one last visit from his family if they so wish. But it’s entirely up to them, and since Viktor and Yuri are both minor, Elena might say no,” he explained, tone wary. Yuuri wasn’t sure whether it was because he thought she should refuse or not. 

“In any case, the network still has to be dismantled, and there are operations led throughout the country as we speak. Many factories have been abandoned already, and it seems like the branches in Russia have caught on and are trying to cut their losses. The teams on the case have already managed to free and deliver to the appropriate services for proper care, many of the people who had been forced into the brothels. I don’t know that they’ll manage to get them all out though,” he stated, a dark look in his eyes and displeased frown on his mouth. 

Yuuri swallowed, but appreciated the honesty. 

“They’ll keep me updated as to their progress though,” he continued, trying to dispel the anger of his previous statement. 

His face softened considerably when he looked back to Yuuri’s eyes, lips even quirking subtly. 

“But it seems that our job is done. The Sulliman case is officially closed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some closure for everyone regarding that investigation! Let me know what you thought!
> 
> Also, next and final chapter tomorrow!!! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and will like tomorrow's one as well! <3


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And heeeeere we are!! The last chapter!! 
> 
> I want to thank you all for giving my story a chance and for sticking with me to the end! I feel honored and blessed by all the hits, kudos and comments, and I seriously thank you for it! 
> 
> I started this story about three years ago, thinking it was going to be a short and fun fic of about eight or ten chapters... I never imagined it would turn into this, and the journey has been bumpy, marked by months of utter inability to write, dozens and dozens of drafts, and entire notebook filled with thoughts and ideas. 
> 
> I wrote this chapter at the end of this summer, after spending the first quarantine in France re-reading the, at the time, 380 something pages to check if the story made sense.   
> This particular chapter took me some time to write, even more to polish, but I am really happy with how it turned out, and I sincerely hope it won't disappoint. 
> 
> It's also the longest chapter of the entire fic - but somehow, I don't that'll be a problem...? ;)   
> Enjoy!

It was July and it was warm. The sun was burning high in the sky, drowning the garden in light. 

It wasn’t quiet by any means. Redeeming wind was rustling the trees, blowing across the grass, making it dance like waves reflecting the sunrays. Birds were chirping in the bushes, hidden away as they sang a symphony only they could understand. 

In the midst of that tableau, two dogs ran wildly, barked merrily, jumped relentlessly. They were being tagged by two little boys, no older than eight, both oblivious to everything beyond the joy of a summer afternoon spent in a lush and sun-kissed garden. 

“Makka! Makkachin, come on, give me the ball!”

The silver head had been trying all the persuasion techniques in the book to coax the dog into giving back the tennis ball. Apparently, the dog had decided that playing fetch also involved her human trying to fetch said ball. 

The brunette was hysterically laughing at his friend’s antics, so much that he had to stop running altogether. The smaller of the two dogs immediately stopped his chase, and trotted back to his human, tongue lolling out. 

Yuuri let out a laugh as he took sight of the little poodle. He didn’t straighten back up right away from the half folded position he was in to try and catch his breath, hands on his thighs and instead went to sit down on his knees next to Vicchan. 

“That’s a good boy! Who’s the good boy? That’s Vicchan! Yes it is,” he cooed at the poodle who was more than readily accepting the cuddles, tail wagging wildly.

Yuuri only looked up when he heard a frustrated huff. Viktor had stopped running, and he was clearly pouting as he looked between a running Makka and Yuuri petting his dog. 

“Yuuri! Makka hates me, she’s being mean!” he whined pointing to the bigger poodle, who seemed confused that the game stopped. She’d paused her mad escape, and without dropping the ball, cocked her head to the side with her ears lifting up. 

She looked so puzzled and innocent that it could only sent Yuuri in another laughing fit. 

“Yuuri!” 

That didn’t help Yuuri’s hilarity and he completely missed the smile hidden behind the pout on the silver head’s face. As if Viktor could ever feel petulant long about something if it meant having Yuuri laugh so much. 

He walked back to the spot Yuuri and Vicchan had stopped at, dropping on his butt next to them when he closed the distance. He held his hand out, and Vicchan immediately licked it, recognizing the favorite human of his human. 

“See Makka!” he called out to the dog on the other side of the garden. “That’s a good dog!”

Yuuri sent him an amused look, shaking his head as he returned his gaze to the small poodle, observing the affection with a fond smile. 

It vanished from his face when he looked up at the sound of rapid galloping, eyes wide in horror as what was going to happen flashed before him. Before he could even open his mouth to warn Viktor, Makkachin had taken a gigantic leap forward and crashed straight into the silver-head’s middle, knocking him on his back. 

Viktor went down with a loud thud, air knocked out of his lungs for a second when Makkachin landed on him. He stayed very still and Yuuri’s eyes were as wide as saucers, heart thumping in his chest. 

“Viktor? Are you oka-“ he nearly jumped out of his skin when Viktor propped himself back up in one fluid movement. 

“You came back! That’s a good girl! That’s a good girl! See Yuuri, I told you she loved me!” 

Yuuri deflated in relief, his heart slowly calming down and back to normal as it was obvious Viktor was fine. After a few seconds though he pouted, not refraining from slapping his friend’s arm for the scare. All it did was make Viktor turn to him with a blinding smile and he felt his resolve crumble and couldn’t do more than shoot him a “seriously?” look. 

Viktor chuckled sheepishly, hands still in Makka’s fur as he leant his head on top of hers, still looking at Yuuri. The brunette could only roll his eyes and shake his head once more in amusement. 

Much like Viktor previously, he extended his hand toward Makka, who licked it quite readily, having had some time to get used to Yuuri since Viktor had brought her home. He broke into a smile when Vicchan yapped, demanding his fair share of attention. 

They stayed like this for a while, Viktor quickly delving into endless chatter that Yuuri raptly listened to, their dogs occasionally running off. Eventually, they were both brought back to earth when Yuri stomped his foot right behind them. 

“Mom said to come back to the terrace for a snack!” he announced, standing straight and visibly pleased to have been given the mission to fetch the two.

“Aye aye captain!” Viktor clamored, faking a deeper voice. Yuuri chuckled but his brother scowled at the perceived mockery. 

They took their time to get up, and Yuri started to get impatient. 

“Come on!” whined the five-year-old, squatting behind his brother’s back to try and push him off the ground. Yuuri was smiling from where he stood observing the scene, Viktor not budging an inch. 

He wasn’t big by any means, but he was quite tall for his age, and Yuri was definitely tiny. 

Viktor let out a laugh as he suddenly swiveled his upper body around, catching his brother _in extremis_ as he nearly face planted, and delved into a tickle torture session. Yuri busted out laughing under the assault, exciting the dogs who started running around in circles, and Yuuri could only bite his lips trying to contain his own hilarity. 

“Vitya, Yura, Yuuchan! If you don’t come now, you won’t get a snack!” 

That did it, and Yuri’s impressive eel impression finally won out as he escaped his brother’s hands and fell in a heap on the grass beside him. His laughter abruptly stopped as if someone had lifted the tonearm of a vinyl disc on a record player. 

He got back to his feet with all the grace of a five year old, and huffed indignantly. 

“Not funny!” he screamed at his brother before darting up the gentle hill towards the terrace where Elena and Hiroko were putting down items they couldn’t identify from where they were. 

Viktor exchanged a look with Yuuri and a second later, both were sprinting in Yuri’s direction. The little boy caught sight of them and let out a small scream as he tried to run faster. He was quickly distanced by the two older boys and as they arrived on the terrace he whined about the unfairness of it all. 

The boys were flushed and their eyes were shining as they sat around the table to eat. Lemonade and banana bread were quickly devoured, both mothers occasionally grabbing a piece of the cake, to the boys indignation. 

Yuri had crumbs all over his mouth, Viktor was handpicking the nuts to eat them separately while Yuuri was already at his second slice, munching happily. 

It wasn’t quiet. But it was better this way. 

***

Yuuri opened his eyes slowly, heart beating steadily in his chest. The low, soft melody of his alarm clock echoing in the small room was definitely a better way to wake up than his usual deafening beeping. His mother had suggested he tried something smoother after his concussion. It seemed to be effective.

He stayed still for a few moments, not in a rush to stop the alarm that for once wasn’t reaping his eardrums apart. The remnants of the dream were still there, though fading, dancing around in the back of his mind. 

He hadn’t been thinking about these afternoons in such a long time, it nearly seemed like they were nothing more than dreams rather than distant memories. It left him somewhat dazed, confused as to what was real and what wasn’t. He realized he was smiling, and perhaps that made the distinction inconsequential. 

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he started stretching his back and shoulders slowly, still buried under the comforter, the music of the alarm threatening to pull him under once more. He winced a little at the sharp pain shooting in his side and back. It would probably still be sore for a while, especially if the bruises he’d noticed after his shower the day before were anything to go by. 

Eventually, he sighed sharply, steeling himself to leave the warmth of his bed and he sat up, hand simultaneously reaching out to stop the alarm. 

The room was engulfed in silence once more, the sun beaming through the window and drowning the wooden floor. It was still and it was calm and for the first time since he first woke up after that Night, he felt good. Relaxed and rested. Exhaustion was no longer pulling him down, making his limbs feel like lead and his head like it was being hammered by a frying pan. The novelty of it was so stark, it left him disoriented, like he was still engulfed in a dream somewhat. 

As he was still pondering over that particular line of thought, his attention was pulled away to a moving figure skipping inside the room that immediately cheered him up. His face broke into a smile of its own volition, slowly getting out of bed to mind the soreness of his body, and went to squat down next to his little poodle as Vicchan came in the room excitedly waving its tail, panting with his tongue out. 

“Hello you,” he greeted softly, his hands cupping the sides of the dog’s head, and scratching behind his ears gently. Vicchan leaned into it and Yuuri’s smile grew wider. He stayed there, quietly petting his dog, knowing full well he was stalling. 

He was going back to school today and no matter how frustrated he had been about the parental executive decision of making him stay at home the day before – he won’t admit out loud that it did him a world of good – he couldn’t help but be nervous now that he was actually going back. 

Phichit’s report about the level of gossip surrounding what had happened Saturday night sure didn’t make returning to school sound appealing. True, he had gotten used to Hasetsu High’s gossip, but this was different. 

Even if he hadn’t woken up screaming from a nightmare this time, he could still feel the weight of what had happened and he wasn’t eager to have everyone at school pester him about it. Even simply knowing they were all talking about it, more unsubtly than not, might he add, was enough to make him dread that part of the day.   
He sighed as he petted Vicchan one last time and got back up slowly, stretching again gently. 

He was glad when it didn’t tug as painfully as earlier, but he vaguely dreaded the moment he’d have to change t-shirts. He strode over to the wardrobe, rummaging through it and seriously considering wearing a regular shirt rather than a t-shirt. He stared at his options for a few seconds, Vicchan circling around his legs, before shrugging and taking the t-shirt. He never felt comfortable in shirts anyway. 

It still took him an embarrassingly long time to get dressed, but a few pained grunts and winces later, he’d changed out of his PJs and in the clean t-shirt, feeling ridiculously proud of himself for it, as if he hadn’t accomplished the same thing the days before. 

“Yuuri! Hurry up or you’ll be late!” Mari called out and he frowned, swiveling on his heels and reaching out to his phone still on the bedside table to check the time. He huffed at the proof of her gross exaggeration, but it vanished at once when his eyes fell on the notification popping up on his phone. 

**Still meeting in the parking lot?**

His face broke into a smile, and he felt a giddy bubble of warmth in his chest. 

_“Are you ready to go back to school tomorrow?”_

_Yuuri took in a breath. “Honestly?” he breathed out. “Not sure.”_

_“Yeah me either,” Viktor replied in an uncharacteristically subdued voice. “Chris warned me that it’ll be like stepping up in a gladiator arena, with everyone waiting for us to verify or belie the rumors.”_

_“Oh joy,” Yuuri let out, tone dripping sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. Viktor hummed in agreement. “I guess we’ll just have to ignore them all, not like we haven’t been the talk of the school for a week.”_

_He smiled when he heard Viktor let out a breathy chuckle._

_“True,” he admitted but Yuuri could sense a ‘but’. “It just…feels different, I mean what happened–, it’s just not… not the same.”_

_Yuuri swallowed, nodding until he realized Viktor couldn’t see him. He cleared his throat. “Mmh, yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean.”_

_Because he did. How could he not? And no matter how much he hated it, this morbid curiosity that seemed to push everyone to forgo all decency and common courtesy in favor of invading people’s privacy to get even a scrap of juicy gossip was not likely to abate anytime soon. And certainly not in a high school full of teenagers living for drama._

_“Just pretend you don’t see them ogling you in the hallway or like what they’re whispering is getting to you. They’ll know, and that’ll be the clue to pounce to get information,” he managed eventually, affecting detached confidence._

_If Viktor noticed he wasn’t feeling it as much as he pretended, he didn’t say._

_“I guess you’re right. Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he answered instead, sounding a little like a petulant child and that made Yuuri laugh._

_“Don’t I know it. But hey, at least neither of us has to do this alone, so bonus point!”_

_The words had barely been out of his mouth that he was already second-guessing himself and he felt his cheeks grow warm. He was starting to seriously resent whoever hadn’t warned him that this new emotional awareness would render him to a state of a sappy, insecure imbecile._

_“That is quite a bonus point,” Viktor replied and Yuuri instantaneously relaxed at the smile in his voice. It sounded like the same smile he kept feeling glowing in his chest. “I was wondering…”_

_Yuuri bit his lip when Viktor paused, suddenly on alert as to what kind of question would make him insecure. Especially after talking about the togetherness of the situation. He ignored his heart hammering in his throat._

_“Viktor?”_

_He cleared his throat. “Yeah sorry! Hum, yes, I was wondering if we could meet up outside the school first tomorrow? I’m not sure I want to go in and face the music alone.”_

_He sounded so nervous that Yuuri had to do a double take and reassess the statement in his mind to try and find what could possibly be wrong with it. Because it all sounded like a bloody fantastic idea to him. He hastened his reply when he realized he hadn’t said a word for several second and he could practically hear Viktor’s anxiety oozing from the phone._

_“Yes! Yes sure, that sounds brilliant!” He heard Viktor sighed in relied on the other side and he smiled._

_“Great! That’s great, that’s…perfect! Hum, right, I have to go, Mom’s calling me for dinner! So I’ll see you tomorrow?”_

_“Yes, tomorrow. Have a nice dinner!” Yuuri replied, once more nodding uselessly and not caring._

_“Thanks! Good! See you tomorrow then!”_

_Yuuri laughed as he answered. “Yes, see you tomorrow.”_

It was endearing, the necessity to constantly check if they were on the same page, and it made Yuuri feel less alone in the ‘figuring this out’ part. It was a little sad too though, he mused as he quickly typed his affirmative reply. 

He probably would miss the cuteness when it wore out, but Yuuri found that he couldn’t wait to reach a point where the last few years wouldn’t cast a shadow over all their interaction, tainting it with anxiety and insecurity. 

It took him a few seconds to realize what he’d thought. How easy it was to consider a point in the future where neither one of them could doubt themselves or the other. 

Yuuri _wanted_ this. He wanted to get there with Viktor. He had to do a double take at the depth of that certainty. It was that shit show on Saturday that was the catalyst to realize how much he cared for Viktor, how much he loved him, no matter how long he’d tried to deny it. 

In the aftermath, the terror of what could have happened had been crippling and the wish to hold onto someone he thought he’d lost – and could have lost – had been dizzying. But despite all that, Yuuri had never consciously translated that into the future. He had been irremediably stuck into the present moment, fearing it would get snatched away faster than he could blink. 

And now? Now, he was considering the “what comes next?”. And as many variables as there were in that question, one shone as clear as day. He wanted Viktor in it.   
He let out a breath, a smile playing on his lips at the realization, before he jumped when Vicchan yapped, nuzzling his legs. He shook his head to dispel his musings and quickly jumped into the morning routine. 

He grimaced in front of the mirror. He looked only marginally better than he did three days prior, but the dark circles under his eyes were definitely not part of the ‘improvement’ category. The sutures were relatively discreet, but still clearly visible, and what was worse, the bruises hadn’t faded from the dark purple hue they’d assumed since they’d left the mansion. 

He was at least glad that it wasn’t swollen anymore, he thought as he turned his head to examine the damage further. No wonder they’d all freaked out when they’d taken in the sight of his face. He huffed, but slowly went through the motion of cleaning the sutures carefully, trying to avoid pulling on them. 

He quickly finished, before making his way downstairs and into the kitchen where he only spotted his mother. 

“Hello Yuu-chan,” his mother welcomed him with a big smile as she set a pan full of scrambled eggs on the kitchen. He had a funny sense of déjà-vu at that, recalling the morning after they’d come back from Philly. 

“Hi Mom,” he answered, a soft smile playing on his lips as he went over the kitchen island to sit. 

He heard footsteps coming behind him and before he could turn to check who it was, he felt a weight setting on his shoulders.

“Hi baby brother,” Mari greeted him, and Yuuri noticed she was very careful not to put any actual weight on him to avoid jarring his bruises. He huffed good-naturedly at the nickname, and jerked his shoulder to try and dislodge her, which she eventually did with a laugh before she sat down next to him. 

“Hi everyone,” then came his dad, striding in the kitchen wearing pristine slacks and shirt, face relaxed for the first time in a very long time. 

Yuuri smiled. 

***

Phichit picked him up after he’d said goodbye to his sister, who would be returning to Uni after he left for school. 

“Climb in, kind sir,” he clamored as he stopped in from of their driveway. Yuuri snorted, and walked over promptly before setting himself in the passenger seat.

Phichit smiled at him mischievously. 

“Ready to face the pit of snakes?” he continued with the same voice that had Yuuri shake his head with an exasperated smile. 

“Jeez, you make it sound so appealing.”

“I do my best.” 

“Hmm hmm.” 

Phichit started the car and they quickly dissolved into their usual banter, conversation naturally flowing. Yuuri told him what his father had shared with him regarding the case and Phichit didn’t look all that surprised. 

“Yes, we all know there was a trial, but the details haven’t been released yet beyond the sentences,” he explained, tone serious. “That’s kinda why the rumor mill is going as fast as it is. We all know something happened, that it was big enough to warrant two life sentence in the most secure facility of the country, and that the only ones beyond the proper authorities who know about it are you, Viktor and Anya. The latter left the state faster than anyone could say poof, and the two others missed two days of school.”

“How do they even know we were involved?” Yuuri mused out loud and turn to Phichit when he snorted. 

“Please, you weren’t exactly subtle this past week, and even less during the party. Viktor asked about you to everyone and then you did the same, right before the three of you disappeared and then an entire movie crime scene appears at Dvornikov’s mansion. They’re dumb, but not that dumb.”

Yuuri groaned, deflating against his seat. 

“Come on, it’ll blow over,” Phichit added in a softer tone after a few seconds, his hand leaving the wheel to squeeze Yuuri’s knee. “It always does. And besides, you have better things to think about.”

Oh oh… He knew that voice. 

“How do you feel about seeing Viktor again?” 

Oh lord. 

He cleared his throat, cursing the deities internally when his ears burned. When would that stop? 

“Great,” he mumbled, acutely aware that Phichit was throwing him glances every five and a half second. 

“Great?” he repeated, sounding offended. “Just great?”

“Phichit please.” And great, now he was whining. 

“Come on you have to give me a little more than that!” 

“I thought you were bitching about the gossipers at school,” Yuuri instead deflected, turning a mutinous look at his friend who was back looking at the road. 

“It’s different!” he exclaimed in the most matter of fact voice, and Yuuri made a ‘no it’s not’ face. 

“How’s it different?” he asked instead. 

“I’m your best friend.” The ‘duh’ was implied and Yuuri rolled his eyes, humming drily. 

***

“And there’s prince charming,” Phichit sang-song, and Yuuri deflated, sending him a glare, which only made Phichit laugh. “I’m just saying, you could have picked literally any place to meet, and you guys chose the parking lot?” 

“Can you please go?” Yuuri pleaded, elongating the last vowel, eyes riveted to where he could see Viktor’s car engaging into the parking lot. 

It didn’t go far, instead stopping where it wouldn’t be in the way for the other cars already steadily streaming in. They’d planned to arrive a little earlier, to avoid the rush of students, but they were always the overzealous and the sports team members spoiling the fun. 

Phichit just laughed. “I’ll go,” he said before wrapping him in a hug. “I’m really happy for you,” he added with a soft smile and Yuuri felt the same giddiness bubble in his chest as he returned the smile and nodded. 

From where he stood, he watched as Yuri and Viktor left the car, Elena following suit and embracing them both tightly. Yuuri smiled at the sight, especially when Yuri dashed back to her after the brothers were walking away. She caught her son in her arms once more before Yuri finally let go and she drove away. 

His attention was pulled away when his phone buzzed once, then six other times, firing notifications faster than he could read them. 

**Just got here :)**   
**Have you arrived yet?**  
 **I can wait!**  
 **Or maybe you’re there already and I’m late??**  
 **I’m sorry!**  
 **Are you, actually, there yet?**

His face split into a grin, before he snorted at the silliness. He quickly unlocked the phone hoping he would be able to send his message before receiving another panicked exclamation. 

**I’m by the east entrance :)** he wrote and looked up as he sent it, watching as Viktor read the message and his head immediately snapped up, eyes searching for Yuuri. 

Yuuri waved at him, his heart thumping in his chest. 

He could pinpoint the exact moment Viktor saw him, for his face split into a beaming smile and his heart missed a beat as he found himself mirroring it, although a tad more shyly. The time for Viktor to cross the parking lot felt stretched and yet gone before he could blink, and suddenly Viktor was close, his smile a little coyer.   
Yuuri swallowed down the nervousness. 

“Hi,” he greeted quietly, vaguely afraid his voice might crack. 

The bruises on Viktor’s face were starting to heal, the edges turning to green already but most of them were still an angry purple color. Yuuri knew for a fact his didn’t look much better, but they were at least smaller than Viktor. 

He winced as he approached his hand, slowly trailing his fingers on the side of Viktor’s face before he could register what he was actually doing. He blinked when he caught Viktor’s amused smile, and jerked his hand away, chuckling sheepishly. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly and Viktor shook his head with a smile.

“Looks worse than it is,” Viktor quipped with an impish smile and Yuuri raised an eyebrow, snorting. 

“So you said,” he retorted, remembering how Viktor had brushed away his concern that Night with these exact words. “But you’re still purple,” he added vindictively, eliciting a laugh from Viktor. 

“So are you.”

“Oh so we really doing this, repeating everything we said then?” Yuuri bantered good-naturedly. 

Viktor’s eyes narrowed in mock consideration. “Maybe let’s not.”

“Agreed,” Yuuri hastened to reply, amazed at the easy banter and remembering his previous musing. 

Swallowing the nervousness he knew was coming back, he reached out to grab Viktor’s hand, unconsciously relaxing when the warm palm went readily in his. He looked back to Viktor’s face before speaking, marveling, not for the first time at the emotion he could see in those blue eyes; the eyes he had thought only held contempt and hatred before, now filled with awe and affection that had Yuuri’s stomach tighten. 

“I’m really happy to see you,” he murmured, now a 100% convinced his voice would crack if he spoke any louder. 

Viktor’s expression softened further, if such a thing was possible, as he smiled down at Yuuri, squeezing his hand tighter in his. 

“Me too,” he said as he moved to envelop Yuuri in a hug, in which Yuuri leaned immediately. “Me too, so happy,” Viktor whispered close to his ear, one arm wrapped around Yuuri’s shoulder, and his other hand squeezing one last time before letting go and up to cradle the back of Yuuri’s head. 

Yuuri relished in the embrace, feeling the last remnants of tension he had no idea were still there slip away as his arms came around Viktor’s back and held him as tight as he dared, his head naturally falling on Viktor’s shoulder and against his neck. He could feel his heart hammering insanely in his chest, the proximity making his senses go haywire, but he could feel it echoing in Viktor’s chest and he nuzzled deeper into his neck. 

He sighed softly, recognizing the flowery scent that he had unknowingly come to associate with safety and Viktor as the wind passed through the loose silver strands. The one that had gotten him out of his trance during his panic attack at the office, the one that had welcomed him after Anatoly, the one that was surrounding him now. 

He was pressed flushed against Viktor and time seemed to simply stop. It wasn’t before he was held in Viktor’s arms that he realized how much he had been craving that closeness. 

Similarly to when he had _needed_ to hear Viktor’s voice to feel calmer, the warmth was better than any balm. It sounded ludicrous even in his own mind but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

At some point, Viktor kissed his temple and Yuuri ducked his head, bashfully smiling before he pulled away slowly. Viktor’s face morphed into a confused yet open expression, silently asking what brought this on. Yuuri didn’t reply at first, drinking in the sight of Viktor’s face and his adorable expression. 

“What?” Viktor asked, eyes darting to the side for a second. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Yuuri smiled, the certainty of his next words making his heart soar. 

“Because I love you.” 

Viktor looked stunned for a moment and Yuuri could only smile at him and squeeze his hand. 

He became vaguely worried when Viktor’s eyes filled with tears but it was quickly washed away by a beaming smile. He let out a wet chuckle before his hands reached up to cup Yuuri’s face and he leaned down to kiss him. 

Yuuri barely registered the surge of pain when Viktor’s hand connected with his bruised cheek, his mind suddenly blank as Viktor’s soft and warm lips crashed on his.

Despite the force, the kiss was tender and slow, filled with all the pain and relief, the anger and the fear, with all the unspoken feelings that had followed them for so long. Yuuri immediately surged up, deepening the kiss, smiling in Viktor’s lips as the unexpected move elicited a soft noise of surprise. One arm came around Viktor’s shoulders while his other hand snaked through the silver hair, soft as silk. 

When they broke apart, they were breathless and Yuuri was dizzy in the best way possible. His arm was still fiercely enveloping Viktor’s shoulder’s and he leaned his forehead against Viktor’s as their breaths mingled and Yuuri opened his eyes. They immediately found Viktor’s, still wet and shining and he smiled as he brushed his thumb reverently across Yuuri’s uninjured cheek. He leaned down, depositing a chaste kiss on Yuuri’s lips once more before backing away slightly. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” he whispered voice assured but shaking with emotions. Yuuri let out a breathy laugh. 

“Yes I do,” he retorted, catching the brief surprise in Viktor’s blue eyes. Yuuri’s smile softened. He was adorable. “I heard you say it first,” he added cheekily, eliciting a disbelieving laugh from Viktor, who lowered his forehead onto Yuuri’s shoulder and Yuuri simply wrapped him in his arms, nuzzling his hair. 

He didn’t look up right away, but he could hear their bubble ready to burst as reality crept closer with the sound of every passing car that entered the parking lot. Soon it would swarm with high schoolers and soon they’d be surrounded by shameless onlookers. And as much as Yuuri had trained himself not to care, this, he didn’t want to share. 

He forced himself to move, and Viktor seamlessly followed suit his head falling off Yuuri’s shoulder before he lifted it up to meet Yuuri’s apologetic gaze after he shot a glance off to the side, signaling the arrival of the students. 

Viktor smiled as he shook his head in reassurance. He let out a breath and straightened back up, taking a step back and holding out his hand. 

“Let’s go face the music, shall we?” he asked in a fake British accent. 

Yuuri snorted, clasping his hand in Viktor and relishing in how right it felt. “That was terrible,” he teased as they approached the stairs of the east entrance.

“Good, it’s funnier that way.” 

***

“I am so confused,” Yuko blurted out at lunch, walking between Viktor and Yuuri. 

She had pounced on him as soon as she’d gotten him in her line of sight, gasping at his face, crushing him in a hug and soundly yelling at him for being an incommensurable idiot. He supposed he deserved that, but he had to glare at Phichit’s chortle as a matter of principle. 

The entire morning had been filled with similar encounters, their friends rallying to get a glimpse at them after three days under the radar and the initial reaction rarely varied. 

From gasps to stony faces going through all shades of emotions available to humans, the hallways had ended up being the theater of quite a number of interesting performances.

Yuuri’s favorite to date was Minami. He had busted out crying when he spotted them and that was the only reason why Yuuri hadn’t busted out _laughing_ at the sight of Viktor’s panicked face when his cousin grabbed both their waist as he sobbed. 

There was Mila’s face going as red as her hair in anger at the sight of the bruises, JJ being rendered speechless, Takeshi’s face drained of color and Chris seemed just about ready to pop a vessel. 

He’d wrapped Viktor in a hug, and Yuuri had let go of Viktor’s hand, knowing Chris had avoided coming to the hotel room where the Nikiforov had been staying to respect the reunion with their mother. He had let out a surprised gasp when Chris took him in his arms as well, the emotion he saw on the blonde’s face moving him. He had stiffened somewhat when Chris had let him go and made a point to stare at him dead in the eyes before he said: “I understand now.” Yuuri had let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and smiled thankfully at him. 

Now they were at lunch, an odd cluster of students that never used to spent so much time together, sitting at the same table nonetheless. 

“Aren’t we all,” JJ muttered drily in response to Yuko’s comment. 

“So,” Mila ventured, elongating the vowel. “Are you two dating now? Cause I swear just this past week Yuuri was the picture of angry exasperation when _you_ ” she emphasized by pointing at Viktor who leaned back with a mildly scared expression, “came within visible distance.” Yuuri was beet red as he glared at her. “Not that you looked any better, like you were chewing on a lemon,” she added for good measure, and Viktor’s face seemed unable to decide between blanching or flushing. 

“Yeah, what gives?” Takeshi butted in with no heat, his arms crossed on the table in front of him. 

“Can you guys just, I don’t know go along with the fact that we are dating now?” Yuuri tried with a pained expression. 

His query proved to be a pipe dream when he was met with a chorus of deadpanned ‘no’, a few snorts and a “you wish” from Mila. Yuuri deflated and silently exchanged a glance with Viktor who looked the picture of self-consciousness. 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at the question he could see clear as day there: _’Do you want to explain?’_. His shoulders’ sagged a little at Yuuri’s unimpressed stare.   
“Yeah no, see that,” Takeshi exclaimed, startling them before he started pointing between the two of them. “When the hell did that happen?”

Yuuri stared at him, his brows furrowed and he saw Viktor’s mouth agape, visibly worried about Takeshi’s mental health. Yuuri would have laughed if he wasn’t already confused. 

“When what happened?” he asked instead. 

Takeshi huffed. “This silent conversation thing!” he practically yelled and Yuuri was vaguely horrified to see several heads nodding in agreement.

“Hum,” he eloquently said, before throwing a glance at Viktor who looked just as lost. 

“Stop that!” Takeshi exclaimed. 

“I’m not doing anything!” Yuuri protested in frustration. 

“Alright, how about we Calm. Down?” Yuko intervened, an exaggerated pleasant smile plastered on her face as she pinched Takeshi’s arm before he could shout again. He leaned away from her with a series of “ow, ow, ow”, before rubbing his forearm when she released him.

“Better! Why don’t we just focus on eating lunch, and let Yuuri and Viktor decide themselves when they want to talk about that, huh? Now, that’s an idea, you’re brilliant Yuko, let’s!” She glared down on everyone around the table, her deadly smile still in place, _daring_ anyone to even attempt talking back. 

Everyone immediately went into the ‘actually eating’ part of their lunch, conversation seamlessly picking back up, and Yuuri would probably would have made the same bewildered face as Viktor if he hadn’t already known just what Yuko was capable of. 

He sent her a grateful glance which she answered with a smile and he relaxed. He really had awesome friends, he mused when he saw Phichit throw a wink his way.   
Turning to Viktor, Yuuri elbowed him gently, and smiled when Viktor jerked slightly, turning to look at him a little dazedly. 

“Is she always like that?” he whispered as everyone was too busy with their own food to pay any attention to them. 

Yuuri swallowed his bite. “Better,” he responded with a knowing smile. Viktor took in a deep breath as he nodded, expression amused. 

“I was thinking,” Yuuri started without meaning to, and Viktor looked at him with a question in his eyes. “Do you want to go to the lake after class?” he finished on a whim. 

He didn’t want to go home right away, even if he still felt quite tired. He wanted to spend more time with Viktor, and that particular lake, where they had spent countless afternoons as children, felt appropriate in these circumstances. 

Viktor’s surprise cleared rapidly and his face lit up in childlike joy that had Yuuri’s throat tighten. He nodded quickly, finishing his bite before vocally answering.   
“Yes, I’d love to! It’s a date!” he exclaimed and Yuuri’s heart missed a beat at the phrasing. It must have shown on his face because it was obvious in Viktor’s rapidly crumbling expression so Yuuri quickly reached out, taking his hand. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, smiling up at him. “Yes, it’s a date.”

***

“I can’t even remember the last time I took the bus,” Viktor remarked off-handedly, his head turned towards the window, eyes visibly bouncing off one thing to the next. “Besides the school bus obviously,” he added, turning to Yuuri with an easy smile. “But since I got my driver’s license, I haven’t really bothered taking the bus anymore.”

Yuuri hummed in assent. He couldn’t really remember either. 

“I’ve been driving so much all around town since I started helping my dad that even taking the school bus seems like a very blurry memory,” Yuuri noted, leaning his crossed arms onto the seat in front of him, his head falling on them, facing Viktor, who angled his body towards him. 

“I’m curious actually,” he started with a smile playing on his lips. “What made you start helping out with cases? I can attest that you’re definitely not incompetent,” he continued making a face at the last word that had Yuuri laugh, remembering one of their first conversations about finding Makkachin. “And you seem to like it, so how did that happen?”

“Good question,” he mused. “I was looking to make a little bit of pocket money and my mom said I could always do like Mari and help out at the onsen.”

“Why do I get the feeling you weren’t too enthused about that,” Viktor quipped, gazing at Yuuri with an impish gleam in his eyes. 

Yuuri snorted. “Let’s just say, I had experience helping out with cleaning the baths from previous summers and it wasn’t the definition of fun.” Viktor laughed at Yuuri’s face and yeah, that was nice. Making Viktor laugh. 

“Anyway, I told her I’d keep it in mind, but I think I wasn’t as diplomatic as I thought I was because my grandmother just said ‘If you don’t want to just say so’ completely matter of factly. She can be very un-japanese like sometimes. Japanese people don’t tend to refuse stuff outright usually. Or ever,” he explained at Viktor’s confused expression. “Never seemed to faze _her_ though. That’s how my dad thought of asking if I wanted to help him out. I didn’t really know what that entailed, I figured it probably be boring paperwork. Turns out, there was a little bit of that, but I quickly ended up in the thick of things, and I loved it,” he explained with wistful smile. 

It had never been easy exactly, but it had always felt natural, and there was something nice about the _doing_ part of the job; not standing still too long and always thinking about what he could do to move forward. 

Viktor hummed a little longingly and Yuuri looked at him questioningly.

“Oh it’s just I never really found anything like that,” he said with a shrug. “Hearing you talk about it, it’s obvious that you really enjoy it. And seeing you actually working a case was pretty damn impressive too!”

Yuuri had trouble containing his smile at the praise, eyebrows furrowing for a second and it seemed to push Viktor forward.

“I mean, honestly, I knew already that you were good at what you did, but seeing you just work your way through trails and whatnot was pretty amazing,” he said earnestly and Yuuri’s ears were _burning_. 

“Hum, thanks.” He had to clear his voice to say it and he looked to the floor, before jumping when Viktor tapped his nose. Yuuri raised a startled gaze at him, and Viktor tilted his head sideways. 

“You’re blushing, it’s cute,” he stated, voice fond and completely as a matter of course. 

Yuuri’s mouth fell open and of course, his face immediately heated up more. How could Viktor just _say_ stuff like that? One second he was all nervous and the one doing the blushing, and the next he just came and blurted this! 

Yuuri spluttered like an idiot and didn’t notice that Viktor’s cheeks were dusted pink. Thank whoever was up there that he didn’t worsen his case by blurting something inanely imbecilic like “I wasn’t blushing”, but really, that only improved the situation by a too small margin for Yuuri to stop blaming said whoever was up there. 

He swallowed, trying to dispel the self-consciousness. “What about you, you really never found anything you liked doing?” 

“Hum, I mean, maybe I wouldn’t say that,” he backtracked and Yuuri smirked, eyebrow raised. Viktor deflated and rolled his eyes in amusement. 

“It’s not an actual job though, I just usually help my vet during the summers, you know with basic stuff like cleaning the cages, feeding the animals and sometimes he let me watch surgical procedures.” His voice was taking a more excited edge the more he talked and Yuuri found himself smiling at the childlike expression. “That’s what cemented my wanting to become a vet I think. I mean, since I got Makkachin, we went to the vet often enough that the idea was there but seeing him actually work made me think about it more seriously.”

“And now, you’re there, applying to vet schools and taking all the science APs you can get your hands on,” Yuuri retorted teasingly, cutting through Viktor’s obvious self-consciousness. 

Viktor gave him a little smile, lips tight together and his eyes shining. 

“Well see, you’ve found your thing too,” he added, nudging Viktor with his elbow. 

“I guess so,” Viktor replied dubiously and Yuuri frowned. Viktor shrugged at the expression. “It’s just my dad used to say it wasn’t good enough for his eldest son.” He was clearly parroting his father’s words, and the face he made told Yuuri he’d heard it enough time that a part of him started believing it. 

He had to swallow the bile at the mention of Anatoly and the damage he’d done. He didn’t think there’d ever be a time where this particular instinctive reaction would abate. He stayed silent for a few moment, observing the myriad of emotions crossing Viktor’s face as he was clearly musing over memories that didn’t seem particularly joyful. With everything Yuuri knew, he thought that was an understatement. 

“You know that’s bullshit right?” he said eventually, forcing his voice just the right side of stern. And considering the man’s job, he didn’t have any career advice to give to anyone. 

But Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to say that out loud. It may have been true, but he didn’t need anyone to tell him how insensitive it would be. 

“I know that,” Viktor retorted just short of snappish. Yuuri didn’t comment and Viktor exhaled a deep breath. “It’s just hard to distance myself from everything he used to say.” 

Yuuri pursed his lips, and moved before he made any conscious decision to do so, hand reaching out to clasp Viktor’s hand in his. Viktor startled a little, eyes falling onto their hands as Yuuri gently brushed his thumb across the back of Viktor’s hand. He seemed to relax at the languid gesture and Yuuri felt like cheering when Viktor turned his head to him and smiled thankfully. 

“You might think I’m crazy,” he started, slowly and cautiously. “But despite everything, it might have been a good thing that I got to see him at his worst.”

Yuuri blinked, ignoring the swoop of nausea that passed through him at being reminded about Saturday. But Viktor’s tone was hard, his voice scratchy and Yuuri had the feeling that the words weren’t easy to voice. He watched as Viktor closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“He got into my head so easily after mom left, and since he never really stopped with his rants about stopping to mess things up, being worthy, being good enough. It gets to a point where you have a hard time believing in your own self-worth.” By then he was whispering and Yuuri had the sudden urge to hit something. He didn’t move though, and the only visible sign of anger was his set jaw and flaring nostrils. Good thing Viktor was watching at their hands rather than at him. 

“Seeing him so obviously insane just snapped something in my mind I think, like I could finally see that everything he had been saying was just a giant web of lies. It’s easier to stop listening to that voice in my head saying I’m not good enough now that I know the one who held that opinion is completely crazy.” 

And Yuuri understood. 

“I don’t think you’re crazy Viktor,” he stated softly and Viktor turned to stare at him. He opened his mouth to say something before retracting, and Yuuri nudged him again with a smile and question on his face. 

He opened his mouth again but paused, exhaling a chuckle. 

“Hum, you don’t have to, but…” he ventured and Yuuri had to raise an amused eyebrow that only relaxed Viktor marginally. “Do you think you could, hum… Again no obligation, but I just thought- I mean with everything and- and this,” he gestured to their clasped hands and Yuuri was very puzzled now.

“Viktor?” 

He sagged, exhaling sharply. “Do you think you could call me Vitya?”

Yuuri’s heart stuttered in his chest and all his words left his mind. It seemed his shocked silence was misunderstood because Viktor’s expression visibly wilted and he was back at rambling. 

“You don’t have to, it’s nothing, don’t worry. I mean, honestly, it’s definitely not important–“

“Viktor? Shut up!” he snapped before Viktor had even finished saying yes. He exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart, before looking back at Viktor who was staring at him like he was scared Yuuri was about to explode. 

“Sorry,” Yuuri exhaled trying to remember how to form proper sentences. “It’s just- I thought…I mean. Ok stop, let me try this again.” He let out a purposeful breath, angling his body toward Viktor to ensure he had his attention. Not that it seemed very necessary considering how Viktor was looking at him, but oh well. 

“I remember how violently you reacted when Anya used that diminutive so…” he tried again – albeit not entirely successfully but at least he’d made a full sentence – and made a wide gesture with his free arm, hoping it was enough to convey what he was struggling to say. 

Thankfully, Viktor’s face cleared and he inhaled, chuckling the air out. 

“Right. Yes I remember. But it’s not because I dislike the nickname, quite the opposite.” Yuuri frowned, confused. “My mom used to call me that,” he continued and Yuuri’s instantaneously understood, Viktor smiling when he saw comprehension dawn on Yuuri’s face. “And you used it too, remember?” Yuuri’s heart felt squeezed in his chest at that and he gave a shaky nod. “You never called me Viktor when we were children, and hearing it, especially coming from her, just reminded me of the two people I loved most and that I had lost.” 

Yuuri felt like crying but he held the tears at bay, blinking and exhaling shakily. Hope was back on Viktor’s face and he shrugged his shoulders slowly in a “so?” manner. Yuuri let out a shaky laugh, looking skywards and willing the lump in his throat to go away. 

“Ok then,” he forced himself to say. “Vitya.” 

Yuuri felt his inside melt as Viktor’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the corner of Yuuri’s mouth, effectively making Yuuri’s heart miss a beat. 

“Oh we’re here!” Viktor’s sudden exclamation made Yuuri jump out of his reverie, turning owlishly towards the bus stop at which they’d just parked. Viktor tugged on his hand as he stood up, making Yuuri follow suit, before he was dragged out of the bus.

Viktor’s chipper mood made Yuuri smile as they walked through the gates of the park, following the gravel paths that meandered through the depths of the park. He didn’t let go of Yuuri’s hand, and there were no words for Yuuri to describe how surreal it felt for them to come here after so much time, and after so many bad memories overlapping the happy ones of their childhood. 

There were children running along the edges of bushes, in and out of the designated playground, but as they closed in on the borders of the lake, noise seemed to disappear and the stillness of their childhood hideout met them as they walked through the falling branches, heavy with green leafs, of the weeping willow. They sat down on the grass, a few meters away from the lake where lazy circles danced on the surface with every breeze brushing the branches over water. 

Simply being there brought forth memories of blissful obliviousness characteristic of childhood, where time was an abstract concept and all there was, was now. Interestingly enough, it didn’t raise the edge of bitterness it usually elicited when Yuuri thought of the past, of the friendship Viktor and he had shared. For the first time in a long time, the memories were untarnished, unstained, and void of anger and grief. 

Yuuri had to smile at that. “Do you remember when I used to braid your hair here?” he mused, unsure whether he was really talking to himself as the reminiscence played before his eyes. 

“Oh yes.” He could hear Viktor’s smile. “It used to drive my mother crazy.”

Yuuri threw him a quizzical smile at that and before he could open his mouth to ask why, Viktor obliged. 

“Did you think she would let me run out of the house without my hair done?” it was the tone that made Yuuri bite out a laugh, now picturing an exhausted Elena running after a small Viktor. “But I would always undo whatever she had done before we met so that I could ask you to braid it.”

“Oh my gosh,” Yuuri laughed, closing his eyes in sympathy for how patient Elena must have been with Viktor as a child. “I’m not complaining though, I used to love braiding your hair,” he said, his free hand reaching up to pass through the silky strands. 

“Used to?” 

Yuuri turned a raised eyebrow to the impish gaze before he snorted. “What, do you want me to braid it now?”

Yuuri was quite impressed at Viktor’s ability to prevent himself from jumping. “Would you?”

He let out a laugh, rolling his eyes fondly, enjoying the look on Viktor’s face the longer Yuuri didn’t answer. “Alright, sure,” he said eventually, smiling wildly when Viktor finally lost control and went jumpy with excitement. 

He moved to sit behind Viktor, and slowly removed the hair tie holding Viktor’s long hair in a loose ponytail, before simply passing his fingers through the length of silver-hair, marveling at the softness. 

He quickly set to work, his fingers seamlessly braiding strands after strands with a practiced ease he had thought forgotten. It was fitting, for them to be here, to do this after so much had happened and Yuuri relished in it. 

_I never thought I’d get this._

Viktor hummed questioningly, and Yuuri startled a little, pausing briefly. It took him a second before he caught on.

“Oh I said that out loud didn’t I?” he laughed awkwardly. 

Viktor huffed a laugh and Yuuri smiled self-consciously, very glad Viktor wasn’t seeing his embarrassment plainly written on his face.

After a second, he exhaled. “It’s true though,” he asserted, more assuredly. “And for a long time I didn’t think I could ever want it either.” 

It didn’t sound callous, or insensitive, Yuuri didn’t think, but he nonetheless moved a little to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of Viktor’s expression as he said it. But he couldn’t take the words back. It was true, and perhaps it was time to stop letting unspoken truths lead to erroneous assumptions. 

“When did you realize you wanted it?”

Viktor’s question pulled him out of his reverie, and he blinked. He hadn’t realized Viktor had shifted minutely, enough that he could gaze at him out of the corner of his eye. His expression was neutral and open, his eyes, earnest, and Yuuri relaxed as he realized his words hadn’t been taken the wrong way. Viktor genuinely wanted to know. 

He hummed, musing over the question as his fingers nimbly went down the length of Viktor’s hair. 

“I’m not sure,” he said eventually, nearly sounding like he was asking rather than saying, and before he could even consider of censoring himself, he was thinking out loud, sharing with Viktor what he had been struggling to really understand. 

“I think, a part of me has always wanted it,” he explained, thinking back on his conversation with his mother. “After what happened in 7th grade,” he continued and was startled when he found mentioning it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it used to. It was more like acceptance, mingled with an edge of sadness about lost time. “I taught myself to resent you, and I think in time, I had myself convinced. I didn’t want to get hurt like this ever again. So when I started spending time with you for the investigation, and saw _you_ , not the constructed image I had made up in my mind based on how much I was hurting, I couldn’t let myself believe it. I ignored it as much as I could, but the more time I spent with you, the more obvious it became.” 

He finished the braid, securing it with the hair tie he had kept on his wrist, and slowly came back to sit beside Viktor, closer than they had been at first, their shoulders touching and he relished in the warmth. 

He exhaled, turning to meet Viktor’s eyes slowly. His face was still open and his look held the same trust he’d seen that Saturday. It made his throat grow tight. 

“By the time we discovered the dogs at the kennel, it was already becoming harder and harder to ignore, and by the time of the party, I think I already knew,” he paused, his voice thick but steady. “I just couldn’t admit it even, and perhaps even more so, to myself. I was terrified that if I started to hope, to believe that it could happen, it would be ripped away from me again, and I couldn’t lose what little camaraderie we had regained. It felt so soothing to finally have that back, and I couldn’t risk it. But then I thought we were going to die,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “That _you_ were going to die. I couldn’t not say it anymore.”   
He swallowed the painful memory, remnant of the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. 

Viktor was smiling down at him, something infinitely soft and sad, and Yuuri exhaled sharply, and found himself blushing under that gaze. 

“Well, I’m glad,” Viktor stated in a low voice, visibly preening and Yuuri threw him an amused glance. 

“Me too,” he said softly, and he smiled when Viktor reached out, taking his hand reverently in his and started brushing his thumb back and forth across the back of Yuuri’s hand. The speed at which Yuuri was getting used to that was heady. 

He looked back at Viktor when he felt the silence drag a little unnaturally and he frowned for a second at the barely contained uncertainty marring Viktor’s expression.   
“Hey,” he called softly, before continuing when Viktor lowered his eyes to his. “What is it?”

Yuuri watched Viktor swallow, a nervous smile playing on his lips. 

“I wanted to ask,” he said cautiously. “You know how they asked if we were dating earlier?” 

It dawned on Yuuri then and he felt his heart squeeze in his chest. He thought he had a fairly good idea of what Viktor wanted, but he couldn’t help the default setting jumping to the worst case scenario, and self-doubt creeped its ugly head. 

“Is that what we’re doing, I mean is that what you want?”

And for all that Viktor sounded nervous, Yuuri thought he was a hell of a lot braver than he was to have the guts to actually say it so plainly. 

“Is that what _you_ want?” he asked in lieu of an answer and internally cursed himself at the deflection. 

He watched Viktor’s jaw working furiously before he levelled a rather steady, yet vaguely clouded by uncertain hope, gaze at him. 

“Yes, I’d like that. I want us to be dating,” he affirmed before adding with a flickering smile and wide, searching eyes: “If that’s what you want too.”

Yuuri’s heart was soaring as he exhaled shakily. His hand lifted up on its own accord, his fingers connecting with the cool and smooth skin, reverently tracing the contours of Viktor’s face. His forehead, the corner of his uninjured eye, his high cheekbone, and his straight nose, his square jaw, before tracing his lips, thin and soft and warm. He could hear Viktor breathing shakily. 

“Yes, yes I want that too,” he whispered earnestly as he leaned forward and claimed Viktor’s lips. 

Unhurried and gentle, but all-consuming, Yuuri melted as Viktor leaned into the kiss, opening his mouth slowly, without rush like he was planning on savoring each instant. He could feel it, the longing, pent-up for so long, fueling their kiss and Yuuri marveled at the love and the relief that poured unabated into it. 

They broke apart the same way they came together, slowly, gently and Yuuri searched and found Viktor’s eyes, a smile lighting up his entire face. They were shining with everything he felt, and none of it could be put into words. 

And Yuuri smiled. How could he not? Viktor’s warm forehead on his, the pressure of his hands cupping his neck and holding his hand, the blue of his eyes, everything was anchoring Yuuri to that very moment, anchoring him in a reality he had never imagined and never realized he needed.

More importantly, he wanted it with every fiber of his being. 

He would hold onto Viktor for as long as he could, for he knew there would always be something missing if that closeness, that connection, disappeared again, and he would never let that happen if he could help it. He was falling freely, restraints and doubts willingly abandoned, as he chose to trust that Viktor would be there to catch him. 

It was frightening, but oh so breathtakingly precious. He was drunk on the feeling and couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving breath that somehow he got to have this. To have Viktor so close, to feel his heartbeat hammering madly in his chest, echoing Yuuri’s, and to have this second chance for them to take. 

Oh they’d made mistakes. But they had been children, manipulated by events they didn’t understand. Children who’d been hurt, and who had hurt each other on the basis of misleading facts and they hadn’t known better. 

Yuuri brushed his thumb across Viktor’s cheek reverently; his breath shaky as Viktor closed his eyes and leaned in the touch. 

Now they did know better. And they would do better. 

“I love you Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, uncaring that his voice was choked. 

Viktor opened his eyes and smiled. “I love you too,” he murmured back, the words ghosting Yuuri’s lips like a promise. 

And maybe it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap!!! I hope you enjoyed this last chapter! :D 
> 
> Again thank you so so so much for giving this story a chance! I'm incredibly grateful for all the support and the reactions it has garnered! <3
> 
> It took so long to finish I almost thought I never would, and I never imagined it would receive such positive feedback. I am still having a hard time wrapping my head around it, and I'll never be able to express how grateful I am, so I'm not going to try...! :p 
> 
> I have two other Yuri On Ice fic ideas that I might attempt to actually start soon (one I actually have a few chapters written out already)- but in the meantime, I'm working on a Star Wars Prequel era one, which was also supposed to be short (like one-shot level short) and I already have 200 pages so I don't think that's happening... For those who read from that fandom maybe you'll end up across it when I'll be done with it, or maybe not! ;)
> 
> In any case, thank you again so much and I'm sending you tons of positive thoughts and good wishes for the holidays, hoping that you and your families are doing well!   
> Lots of love, Flo.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! :D I'll post the next chapter soon! 
> 
> P.s: the name for the case, "Sulliman"; I literally picked the first name that popped in my head while writing and thought I'd just change it later. I didn't, and now I can't imagine any other name for it, so it stayed.  
> Not that it's important, but I just thought I'd mention it!


End file.
